The Journey To You
by TheGryfter
Summary: Superman has disappeared. His grieving wife turns to a journal he wrote for her - the story of how they found each other again after his battle with Zod. It's the tale of a man's love for two women, and the broken road that led him to happiness, at last.
1. So Far Away

A/N: Okay, I'm back. I wanted to get away from Supernatural after being put through the emotional, and almost physical wringer during my last fic. It's something I'm really proud of, but I needed out of that world. So, my eternal refuge... Smallville.

That's not to say that this won't be traumatic though. It probably will be.

It picks up right after the events of Salvation, so don't read it if you haven't watched the episode. I had very clear intentions when I sat down to write this. It's a 'shipper' fic. No doubt about it. But I hope it's different from the ones I've written before. i want to be brave, and bold and new.

Of course, i won't know if I succeeded until we get to the end - and you tell me if it's a pass or fail.

That means, please review. I love hearing from all of you. And so... onto...

* * *

…**the journey to you…**

.

…**prologue – so far away…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

The song on the radio played her heartbreak.

.

_If someone said three years from now_

_You'd be long gone_

_I'd stand up and punch them out_

_Coz they're all wrong…_

_That last kiss, I'll cherish_

_Until we meet again_

_And time makes it harder_

_I wish I could remember_

_But I keep your memory_

_You visit me in my sleep_

_My darlin'…_

_Who knew…?_

.

Unable to take it anymore, she switched it off, and opened the book held in her lap. Leather-bound, with a raised print in beautiful pastels of a man and a woman by a lakeside in early spring. She ran her fingertips over the image, trying to recapture her own memories of a similar day… many years ago.

But the memories wouldn't come.

So acute was her grief, so great her longing that they blocked even the thoughts of him that would bring her comfort.

Three months had passed.

Three months since that day when he'd woken her with the sweetest kiss, fixed her coffee just the way she liked it and gone out, as he always did, to save the world.

Only on that day, he hadn't come back.

The Justice League had been scouring the globe and, at the same time, trying their best to fill the void he'd left. It did little good. Even a team of heroes could not compare to him. None could produce that light that flared in the human heart at the sight of him streaking across the sky.

And so they searched, but there was no trace, no sign…

And, increasingly, no hope.

The world was missing it's Guardian.

But she was missing her husband.

Stemming the flood of tears, she opened the book. A gift from him on their anniversary a year ago. It was almost like he knew she'd come to a day like this.

A day when she needed his reassurance. A day when she needed his voice – even so stark and hollow as words on a page. She needed it.

The distinctive curl of his handwriting brought a familiar fond twinge. She hadn't even started, and already she was losing the battle against the tears. Taking a deep, calming breath, she flipped to the introduction he'd penned, and started to read…

.

_Sugar…_

_It's funny how fast the time goes by. _

_It's been two years since you answered every prayer inside of me, and became my wife. _

_Two years of love, joy and a greater peace than I have ever known. _

_They say a person can only know peace when they're with their soulmate. _

_It's true. I know that now. _

_I didn't know how empty I really was in the time we were apart. _

_It hurt like nothing I'd ever felt before… like nothing I ever want to feel again. _

_And the surprising thing, the miracle of it all, is that I know you feel the same way. _

_Why you choose to stay with an idiot like me is a question I hope you never ask _

_Because I'm the lucky one. _

_I found the most beautiful girl in the world, and she looked at me like I was the one. _

_I try, every day, to be the one for you. _

_And that's what this is…_

_I know that who I am, and what I do, scares you. _

_You think I don't notice but I hear you sometimes, crying soft tears in the night. _

_You're afraid that one day I'll meet someone I can't defeat – face a challenge I can't live up to. _

_I wish I could promise you that that will never happen, but… I can't. _

_I face danger every day for the people of this city, this world, and I know the risks. _

_But you have to know that, deep down and most of all, I face them for you._

_So that you can live in a better world, free of tyranny and fear. _

_That's why I can never stop being who I am. _

_But maybe there will come a day when you're lonely, or lost, or find me far from you. _

_So, I wanted to give you this. _

_It's a story. _

_A story you're familiar with. _

_It's about the days just before I donned the shield, when us being together in the end seemed nothing more than a distant dream. _

_The story of how I found you all over again. _

_Some parts will be painful – even the second time around, but I promised to always be honest with I'll tell the tale as it happened. I'll pull no punches. _

_I'll lay the truth out there and hope it brings you comfort. _

_I hope it reminds you that whatever happens, and wherever I am, I'm thinking of you. _

_Loving you._

_That I will do anything to find a way back into your arms. _

_Happy Anniversary,_

_Clark…_

_._

_._

_._


	2. Refuge in the Sky

…**refuge in the sky…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

_May 28__th__ 2010_

_._

It was the emptiness that killed me.

The silence.

A newsroom could never be completely silent, and the bullpen was still charged with frenzied activity, but there was… a gap…

An emptiness… now.

Like the world, once full of vibrant colour, had been reduced to dull and lifeless grey.

That was my world without her.

Without Lois.

Sometimes I'd sit at my desk, staring at that empty seat across from me for hours. People would talk to me and I wouldn't listen. Assignments would land in my in-tray and just lay there… forgotten. I came very close to losing my job in those first few weeks.

Of course, I was happy for her.

Really, I was.

A slot at the Foreign Correspondent's Desk in Kenya was glamorous, and exciting, and absolutely everything I wanted for her. She was working with Perry White, and she was building a name for herself.

I'd cut the clippings of her stories, and save it in a special book that I kept in my loft. She started off small – reporting on UN aid services in Kenya, Uganda, Ethiopia…

Soon enough, though, within a month, her natural talents won through and she was placed on the bigger, juicier assignments that seemed just tailor-made for Mad Dog Lane.

That day, I was reading her expose' on a rebel kingpin based out of the Congo who'd tried to cut a deal with ex-Soviet cabal states to smuggle arms through North Africa. Starting from a slim lead, Lois had chased it up until the implications shook the balance of power on both continents.

I was so proud of her.

Of course, I couldn't say that. The one time I'd tried to get in touch with her, she told me not to call. She'd visit Metropolis sometime, and maybe we could talk. Until then I was to maintain radio silence.

That's how she put it. Radio silence. Army brat!

I couldn't blame her.

The last time she'd seen me – Clark Kent – she'd told me she would give up the job for me. That she would pass on this wonderful opportunity if I asked her to.

Instead, I told her that I would always be watching over her. And then I told her to go.

I remember the hurt in her eyes. That look of shock and betrayal.

I couldn't explain that, at the time, I thought it was my last day on this planet. Zod's army was mobilising around the world. The threat to humanity was greater than at any point in my lifetime. And I had the means to stop it.

The Book of Rao.

A device built by my father, Jor-El, that would send any and all Kryptonians to another plane of existence. Including myself.

It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

That didn't make saying goodbye to Lois any easier. It tore me up to lie to her, but how could I tell her the truth about who I really am, only to leave her. It had to be that way.

Of course, I didn't go anywhere.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the police scanner going off. I quickly upped the volume, listening to the static-woven reports of a robbery downtown.

A quick scan of the bullpen told me that my co-workers were all engrossed in their own tasks. I hustled to the stairs and, when no one was looking, I took off.

Apprehending the thieves took less than two minutes. They were inept amateurs anyway, and the danger to civilians was minimal.

Less than minimal. One of them was carrying a water gun.

Trussing them up, I left them for the police to find. But I didn't want to go back to work. I didn't want to be at the Daily Planet anymore.

With Lois gone, the place was empty.

More than that, Metropolis seemed empty.

I reflected on that as I stood on the parapet of the Winchester Tower. Guarded by gargoyles, who's shadows loomed large in the light of the disappearing sun, it was the perfect spot for me to keep watch. Right in the heart of the city, I could cover a massive area with my enhanced hearing and telescopic vision.

I was tempted to avoid the place after the showdown with the Kandorians. After all, it was on this roof that I took Zod's blade, forged with blue kryptonite, and plunged it into my gut. This roof was the last thing I saw as I tumbled backward through empty air, devoid of my powers, as Zod was sucked up into a portal that would take him, and his threat, away.

But it was also where I discovered my greatest power.

It's hard trying to recall my thoughts in those moments as I fell.

I remember the pain, that's for sure. I was human, and the foot long blade had carved a home for itself in my stomach.

I remember the queer sight of the building seeming to grow larger and larger in front of me, like some concrete magic beanstalk trying to pierce the sky.

I remember the tiniest hint of triumph, knowing that this sacrifice would at least be enough to get rid of Zod.

But still, it was mostly the pain.

Desperation made me tug the blade out, dragging a good section of my insides along with it. I barely had the strength to toss it away, trying to get it far enough to break the binding influence of the kryptonite, and give me back my powers.

That part worked at least. I could feel it when the pain receded, and my skin stitched together.

But then the force from the portal caught hold of me. No longer human, it sought to pull me back.

My fall slowed, and then stopped.

I was being pulled upward with greater speed, towards that hole in the world and suddenly, I didn't want to go.

I thought I'd made peace with it. I thought I'd prepared myself for a life on another world, but as that golden eye of the inferno drew closer, I realised that all I wanted was my life here on earth. The only life I had ever really known.

And so I fought.

I shut my eyes and screamed, drawing on every reserve of energy I had, trying to fight the pull toward the gate. Resisting that force, it felt like my blood had caught alight. The rushing air became a host of tiny daggers slicing through me. But still I fought.

And then it shifted.

It was like a switch went off inside my mind – or my soul.

It felt like a tether being cut and suddenly I was floating.

The portal was still exerting it's pull, but I was still. All I knew was I wanted to get away, and suddenly I was moving through the air. Faster, and faster, until I was speeding over the rooftops of the city like a bullet from a gun.

It was glorious.

It was terrifying.

I knew then why I'd been so afraid of this power. Nothing else I could do – not the strength, the speed, even the X-Ray vision felt so completely… alien.

I was still not used to it, but I was getting there.

Taking to the sky, I did a quick patrol – zipping through the city streets – searching for anything out of place.

It was relatively quiet. Making a mental note to come back later that night, I angled away from the lights blinking on all over Metropolis, and headed for Smallville.

You'd think, being an intergalactic traveller, that I'd be used to the idea of being out of place – of not really knowing where my home was. But it's still hard.

I still felt the split inside when I thought of Smallville.

It was my home – the resting place of childhood memories. But Metropolis was where I'd staked my claim. It was there that I first made the choice to don my father's shield. It was there that I found a path and a purpose at the Daily Planet.

But it was also a place I would always associate with Lois.

Whichever way I looked at it, it all came down to her.

Partner.

Friend.

Lover.

Gone.

Night had descended while I was patrolling, so I figured it was safe to make a quick aerial sweep past the Talon. It was something I found myself doing a lot since she'd moved away. She wouldn't be there, I knew that, but a quick scan through the walls, running my eyes over all those familiar objects – the one lonely bunny slipper abandoned under the bed, the pile of jigsaw puzzles, all still in their plastic wrapping, the complete Jean Claude Van Damme collection on DVD – all of them so Lois… it made me feel better.

I hovered in the shadow of the building across the street. Engaging my X-Ray vision, the walls seemed to melt away. Starting in the bedroom, I arched my neck so I could take in the whole apartment. And then…

There!

In the corner!

Movement!

Someone was inside. Without thinking, I blitzed across the street. I felt a momentary pang of regret when I smashed in the window, but I was in combat mode by now. I was ready to start swinging when a woman's scream stopped me dead.

I froze in the middle of the living room, still a foot off the floor.

The lights were off, but I could see her clearly.

Her bags were on the floor on either side of her, and she had a hand clamped over her heart. I must have given her the fright of her life.

I know she'd just given me the fright of mine.

I could barely comprehend the fact that she was standing right in front of me, and could do nothing but croak out her name…

"Lana?"

.

.

.


	3. Awkwardness and Loneliness

…**awkwardness and loneliness…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

"You're floating."

The look on her face was strange... something I hadn't seen for a long time. At least, not when she was looking at me.

It was awe.

Hastily, I grounded myself.

"I've been able to, um… fly… for a few weeks now," I explained.

"That's… incredible, Clark."

The shock of seeing her again, for the first time in almost two years, had left me a bit scattered. That's why it took me so long to realise the significance of what was happening.

"We're in the same room," I said, "I'm not… There's no pain."

"The Suit won't hurt you," she said, "You don't have to worry about it anymore, Clark."

"What happened?"

"I took care of it."

"How?"

"It doesn't matter."

Picking up her bags again, she pushed past me and headed for Chloe's bedroom.

I was confused.

It didn't matter?

The Prometheus Suit – one of Lex's inventions, designed to give him superhuman strength and speed had been stolen by Lana. Embedded into her skin, it turned her into a metahuman.

It also absorbed kryptonite.

Lex had threatened to set off a kryptonite bomb on the roof of the Daily Planet. To save the city, Lana had taken it's power into herself. Unfortunately, this meant that she would radiate kryptonite – basically becoming a living version of the meteor rock.

It also meant we couldn't be near each other. Her very presence would kill me.

So, yes, I was confused.

"You don't want to tell me what happened?"

"I'm sorry," she said, dumping her luggage on the bed, "I just… want to settle in. I was planning to come and see you… sometime. I thought I'd have more chance to prepare."

"Prepare for what?"

"For seeing you," she shrugged, "After what happened between us, it was never going to be easy."

"I guess not."

An uncomfortable silence fell.

This was more familiar territory. It seemed like our entire relationship had been built on uncomfortable silences.

I took refuge in small talk.

"So… how long are you going to be in town?"

"I'm not sure," she said, "Chloe's letting me stay here. She'll be over at Oliver's."

More silence. Still uncomfortable.

"Okay, well… I guess I'll let you settle in then."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and I'll, er… I'll come by and fix the window tomorrow. At least it's not cold out, so you don't need to cover it up. Or I could make a plan. Some cardboard, and..."

Lana quirked a smile at that, "I'll be fine, Clark. Thank you."

I nodded, and headed for the window.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"You can use the door if you want."

"Right… right."

I switched directions and made for the door instead.

"Clark?"

I turned on the threshold, my hand on the doorknob.

"Yeah?"

"It was good to see you."

My turn to crack a smile.

"You too, Lana."

.

.

.

I touched down a mile from the farm. I felt the need to just walk. Hear the gravel crunching under my boots, and breathe in the crisp tang of the night air.

It's never truly quiet at night. Owls, badgers, crickets… all prowled the darkness, sending out their sentinel calls that spoke of vibrancy and life. I've always loved the farmlands at night.

The need to walk came directly from the encounter with Lana. I'm a writer, but even on my best day I couldn't have scripted a more awkward reunion. The fact that she was free of the Prometheus Suit should have at least offered some comfort to both of us. But it hadn't.

There was a distance between us – a barrier that had nothing to do with kryptonite.

It was sad to realise that that distance had probably always been there.

I knew that I'd changed a lot over the past few years. Triumph and tragedy had moulded me, removing some the naivety I was accused of when I was younger. But I could still remember the boy I once was. The boy who loved Lana Lang with complete and utter devotion.

I suppose a trace of that boy will always be there inside of me. I hope so. I don't want to forget what it was like to fall in love for the first time. It was painful and magical and, despite everything that came after, I knew it was worth it.

But now that girl was back. And I had no idea how I felt about that.

I reached the house and let myself in the back door. The lights were off, and I turned them on as I set about making coffee. I moved through the kitchen on autopilot, grabbing a spoon, a mug, the sugar. I noticed that the light was blinking on the answering machine and clicked it on.

"_Hi, Clark, it's me."_

I froze.

Lois.

This was the first time she'd called in a month.

"_Listen, you're gonna hear something at the Planet tomorrow, and I just wanted to say… Don't come after me, okay?"_

I blinked. What was she talking about?

"_I wanted to let you know that I'm fine. Perry's sorting it out, and it's going to be alright. So there's no need for you to act like… well... you. I'll be okay. Anyway… that's all. Bye, Clark."_

The phone beeped, signalling the end of the message.

My first instinct was to call her and demand to know exactly what was going on. I actually picked up the phone. Then I realised that the time difference would mean I'd be calling at four in the morning, her time, and that wouldn't even be in the top three reasons she'd be pissed at me.

I sighed, and put down the phone.

Lois Lane was a continuing enigma, and I suspected she always would be.

I made the coffee and headed for bed. As I passed through the living room, I noted – not for the first time – the touches Lois had added to the house.

The framed poster by the stairs she'd given me as a present when I landed my first solo by-line - a picture of a grinning Stephen King playing the electric guitar and underneath, the legend: _Writers Are The New Rock Stars!_

She'd tried decorating the place with more plants and flowers, but Lois had the opposite of a green thumb. Every plant she bought, no matter how well we looked after it, would succumb to some mysterious ailment and die.

So she bought cacti.

Lots of them.

As a result, my house now looked like some artsy fusion of a desert and a folksy country home.

My room was the worst.

It smelled like her.

Lois insisted on getting dressed in my room when she stayed over - even before we started going out - because my closet had a full-length mirror, and she kept a selection of perfumes displayed on my dresser. Also, more than half the closet was dedicated to storing her clothes.

She was halfway around the world and yet, sitting there in the dim light, sipping the coffee she'd gotten me addicted to, I realised that she was still right there with me.

In that moment it was like I'd never pulled out that dagger when I fell.

Concern for Lois had pushed all thoughts of Lana from my mind but, right then, I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

.

.

.


	4. Breaking News

…**breaking news…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Finding out what happened to Lois didn't take very long.

Just stepping into the bullpen, I knew immediately that something was off. People were gathered in groups - around desks, by the coffee machine – all whispering, like clumps of gossip vultures. And they all fell silent when I walked in. Some were sniggering, and others looked downright scared.

What did they think I was going to do?

Approaching my desk, I caught the eye of Dan, the Obit guy, and detoured towards him. Dan was thin and pasty – he looked like an undertaker – and as soon as he saw me coming towards him he started casting around desperately for an escape route.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Uh, hey Clark…" he wheezed, "Nothin' much! What's going on with you?"

Dan's eyes were popping out of his skull. He was trembling a little bit.

"Dan…"

"Listen, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, okay? I can't handle that!'

"You write the obituaries," I pointed out.

"Yeah, still…" he protested, "The families don't come looking for me."

"Dan, it's okay," I tried to reassure him, "I know it's got something to do with Lois. She called me last night and told me I'd find out what happened when I got into work."

"She called you?" Dan seemed surprised, "So, she got out then?"

"Got out where?"

Dan grabbed his copy of the Planet and thrust it towards me.

"Page two," he said, before beating a hasty retreat right out of the bullpen.

I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I settled down at my desk and turned to page two. There, above the fold, was a picture of Lois – the same one that appeared on her Press ID – next to the headline: _**Daily Planet Reporter Incarcerated!**_

I groaned.

The piece didn't have too many details. It had been picked up off Reuters and shoehorned into the morning edition. Apparently, Lois had gone off-book and taken it upon herself to investigate a high-ranking Kenyan cabinet minister on suspicion of corruption. She'd produced documents detailing the minister's involvement with rogue gangs in neighbouring countries, allowing them to smuggle blood diamonds into Kenya.

All well and good, except she'd broken into the minister's house in order to obtain these documents.

The minister himself was arrested too, and apparently they'd shared a holding cell together. The guards on duty had heard a disturbance a short time afterward, and one was quoted as saying: _"I heard the honourable Philemon Sbanga call the American woman a very dirty word. Then there was screaming. We ran in, and had to drag her off him. She bit his hand open!"_

I groaned again and chucked the newspaper on the desk. The sniggering had intensified and now people were openly laughing as they watched me.

I glared at them.

They shut up.

I got to my feet and addressed the whole bullpen.

"You guys think this is funny?" I demanded, "Do you think if the situation were reversed, and any one of you were stuck in some prison in Africa that Lois would be laughing? No! She'd be tearing the world apart doing whatever it took to set you free!"

The office went very quiet. No one dared to look at me.

They knew I was right. Lois was fiercely protective of the people around her. And so was I.

Grabbing my cellphone, I headed for the roof. The reception was better up there. I didn't want the call to be cut. I dialled the number from memory. It rang three times before the call was answered.

"Hello?"

"Perry?"

"Oh, hey Clark. I was expecting your call."

"You were expecting it?" I was in no mood to be polite, even to a man I respected as much as Perry White, "Why didn't _you_ call _me_? Lois got arrested? What happened?"

"I didn't call you because she told me not to," he explained, quickly, "And I'm sorry, Clark, but as big as you are… she scares me more."

I had to give him that.

"What happened? Is she okay?"

"She's fine," said Perry, "I have a few friends over here. I pulled some strings. Got her released with a warning."

"Oh, thank God…"

"Unfortunately…"

I suppressed my third groan in as many minutes.

"What?"

"She got the evidence for the story illegally, so the charges against the minister had to be dropped."

"Obviously…"

"Well, Lois didn't take the news that well."

"She's going after him again?" I couldn't believe it, "Perry, if this guy is as connected as she says he is, then he could be dangerous."

"I know that, Clark!"

"Well, stop her!"

"How?" he shot back, "You've worked with her longer, have you figured out some secret way to get her to let go?"

I had to be honest, "No," I admitted, "When Lois wants something, she usually goes after it. I think it'd take a nuke to stop her."

"That's what I suspected."

"Or a bullet," I added, "Perry, she could get killed."

"I'll watch her, Clark," he said.

"Please," I begged him, "Keep her safe. And the hell with her orders. If she's in trouble… call me."

Perry didn't answer, and for a second I thought I'd lost the connection.

"Perry?"

"Okay, Clark," he said, "I will."

"Thanks."

I hung up, and drifted over to the edge of the roof. Planting my hands on the low wall, I tried to get my emotions under control.

They were at war inside me.

Relief that she was okay…

An aching worry that she wouldn't be for long.

I closed my eyes, trying to drown in the sounds of the city waking up. Somewhere out there, across the world, Lois was doing what Lois does…

"She's in trouble again," I muttered, surprised that I was smiling, "Must be Tuesday…"

.

.

.


	5. What Was Lost

…**what was lost…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

It was a pretty normal day after that.

I had to edit a piece I was working on about the destruction of an old theatre in the river district – then I caught a carjacker out on route 90. I filed my expenses with Finance, and helped stop the flooding caused by a collapsed dam wall out in Hampden County. I also repaired the dam.

The rest of my co-workers avoided me – talking to me only when they absolutely had to. That suited me fine. Their attitude toward Lois' situation still bugged me.

Soon, though, it was time to go home.

I stopped at the farm to pick up my truck. Then I wound my way into the centre of town, stopping at Fordman's. Whitney's dad had sold the store soon after his son was killed in action in Afghanistan. The new owners had kept the name.

They sold everything I'd need at Fordman's and I loaded the truck and headed for Main Street.

I parked outside the Talon, under the marquee that proclaimed the title of the last movie shown in the now-abandoned movie theatre in back: _Splendor in the Grass_, with Warren Beatty and Natalie Wood - the story of a teenage couple from Kansas who were, perhaps, too much in love.

I stood on the sidewalk looking up at the sign. Suddenly, I felt a twinge of nostalgia, mixed with sadness. The Talon no longer did business as a coffee shop or a movie theatre. Lana had worked really hard turning it into a place where we could all feel at home during our awkward high school years.

Now, just a few years later, it was gone.

But then, all things end.

Pushing through the blasted-glass front doors I made immediately for the stairs, but stopped when I heard a noise behind the counter.

"Who's there?" I called.

I heard a clunk, then the sound of metal hitting the floor. A second later, Lana rose up from under the counter.

"Thanks, Clark," she rolled her eyes at me, "Now I think I've really broken it."

"Sorry," I said, carefully laying the two panes of glass down on the counter, "What are you doing anyway?"

Lana pointed to a gap underneath the ancient coffee machine. It plugged directly into a water pipe leading back into the kitchen. I noticed that Lana had replaced the midsection of pipe, but the nut she'd been working on was now twisted and cut by the teeth of the pliers. It had slipped, presumably, when I startled her.

"Sorry," I said again, rounding the counter.

I bent down and used my fingers to straighten the nut. A quick blast of heat vision and it was sealed.

"There," I said, "It won't come loose now."

"Thanks," she said, "You're a regular handyman today. You're here to fix the window?"

"Yeah."

"Okay… why don't you go up and get started on that, and I'll see if I can coax some life out of this old machine and make us some coffee?"

"Deal," I grinned.

I grabbed the glass again, and headed upstairs.

I know it seems strange, for someone who grew up on a farm with an endless ream of chores, but when I do menial tasks like fixing a broken window, I hardly ever use my speed. Somewhere, deep down, I've always felt like it was cheating.

My powers came in handy when I had to remove the jagged shards still embedded in the edges – no chance of getting sliced – and ten minutes later I had both new panes installed. I was just smoothing down the ridges on the putty holding them in place when Lana came upstairs with the coffee.

"Here you go," she said.

I smiled my thanks, and gratefully accepted the mug. I took a sip. It was getting to be a theme that day, but I groaned aloud again.

"Delicious," I murmured, draining the cup.

"Easy, cowboy," Lana laughed.

"I've got a small… tiny, really… very insignificant addiction to caffeine," I confessed.

"You don't say?"

"Tastes exactly like it did when the Talon was open," I said, slurping the dregs at the bottom of the mug.

"That's because I don't think the machine has been cleaned since," said Lana.

I choked.

She laughed.

"Is Mr Invulnerable scared of radioactive coffee?" she teased.

I pulled a face.

Lana ran her eyes over my handiwork.

"You done?"

"Yeah," I said, "Just have to let it dry, then I'll come by tomorrow and touch it up with some paint."

"Are you looking for excuses to come over, Clark?"

"What?"

"Relax! I'm teasing."

"Oh…"

Lana frowned and shook her head. She turned, and headed back out of the apartment. I followed.

"So, what are your plans?" I asked, as we clomped down the stairs.

Lana didn't answer. Just frowned at me again.

"Just making conversation," I said, "Something to do while you fix me another cup."

"Another one?"

"It's too good to be denied a refill."

Smiling, she grabbed the cup from me and set about making another. She darted about, grabbing everything she needed with quick, practised movements – as though the skills she'd learned way back in high school hadn't left her.

"To be honest, I don't really have any," she said, "I was in New York for a while. Then Europe and Asia. Then I guess I… ran out of places to run to."

"Why didn't you come back as soon as you fixed the problem with the suit?" I asked.

It was a not-so-subtle dig, hoping she'd elaborate on what exactly had happened. If Lana noticed – which I was sure she did – she didn't elaborate.

"Leaving… Smallville… was hard," she said, leaving the unspoken sentiment hanging in the air, "Especially the second time around. For a while, all I cared about was getting rid of the Prometheus Suit. It took me a year to find the answer, and when I did…"

She trailed off. She finished making the coffee and slid the mug over to me.

"What?" I prompted.

"I thought about coming back," she said, "I wanted to, but… I guess I realised it wouldn't be fair. Not to you, not to me… We had our goodbye, and I wanted to leave it at that."

"Then why are you back now?"

"Because I figured it wouldn't be a problem anymore," she said, "We could be around each other and all those old feelings… Well, they'd be just that… _old_ feelings."

"What are you talking about?"

"Lois," she said.

Okay, that threw me. She must have seen the look on my face, because she looked confused.

"You are together, aren't you?" she said, "I mean, Chloe told me a while ago, but you were never the type for a short-term fling, Clark."

"I'm not."

"Then… what is it?"

"Chloe didn't tell you?"

"No. I emailed her to say I was coming to Smallville. She offered me her room. That was it."

I chuckled at the irony of it all, and half-cleared my coffee mug again.

"Clark?"

"Lois is gone," I told her, "She, uh… she took a job in Africa with Perry White. We broke up."

"Oh," said Lana.

The news seemed to distress her and she actually took a step away from me. After a couple of seconds, she composed herself.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"It's okay," I shrugged, trying so hard to pretend it really was okay, "She'll be back… sometime."

"How long has she been gone?"

"Just over a month."

"You must really miss her."

I nodded.

"What did you mean our old feelings would be put aside because of her?" I asked.

Lana laughed at me.

"Come on, Clark," she said, "It's obvious."

"Is it?"

"Anything that was still… lingering between us would be swept away," she said, "That's what happens when you're with the love of your life."

"The love of my life?"

Saying it out loud like that, it was like the scar that was finally starting to form now that Lois was gone, had just been ripped open again. It started to bleed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," said Lana, "But… wasn't I the first one to see it?"

"See what?"

"That there was something there between you? Something more?"

I concentrated, trawling back through the years until I recalled the moment.

"The caves," I said.

Lana nodded, "Just after I got back from Paris."

"Yeah, well, you made a mistake," I pointed out, "You thought we were together. We weren't."

"And you doth protested just a little too much," Lana giggled.

"And you told me the best ones always start that way."

"They do, Clark," she said, reaching over and squeezing my hand, "It doesn't matter where she is… Africa, Paris… she'll find her way back to you."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

I smiled, and squeezed her hand back.

"Wow…" I laughed, suddenly, "Even for Smallville, this is a bit weird."

"What?"

"You and me… sitting here… talking about someone else."

"You're right," she said, "It is weird."

"But a good weird," I said.

"Agreed. And that doesn't happen that often in Smallville."

"No, it doesn't."

"Tell you what," said Lana, "I made some muffins today. They're upstairs. How about you go get them and we just let the weirdness wash over us?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Two seconds later I was back with the plate of muffins. Lana stayed on barista duty, and we just talked. We didn't really touch on any heavy subjects after that. It was the type of evening I thought Lana and I had lost a long time ago. A simple night, with no pressure, no drama, and no lies…

Just two friends, in a spot with a lot of shared memories, talking through the night.

.

.

.


	6. Down Deep

…**down deep…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Chloe… Chloe! CHLOE!"

I was getting desperate. I'd been on the wrong end of dead air for almost ten minutes, and the odds against me hadn't been all that stellar to begin with.

"Relax, Clark," I heard Chloe's voice piping through the earpiece I wore, "You should be all alone now, just go down the tunnel."

I stared at the fifteen foot tall behemoth in front of me. Carved from granite, his fingers the size of my forearms, I actually felt dwarfed by an opponent for the first time in my life.

This guy made Doomsday look like a toddler!

The… _thing_… roared.

"What was that?" asked Chloe.

"That's what I'm all alone with in this cave!" I shouted, "Why didn't you warn me?"

"I'm not picking up any heat signatures."

"Maybe that's because he's carved out of solid rock!"

"Okay, he wouldn't be giving off any heat then."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!"

"Clark…" Chloe sounded amused, "Did you just pun in the middle of a fight?"

"I've been watching that show you told me about. With the guy who looks like Jason Teague. He always puns. It seemed like the thing to do."

The beast took a step towards me. As it's foot fell, the ground shook like the precursor to an earthquake.

"Remind me why we're doing this again," I said, backing up to where the tunnel narrowed a bit.

"Jonn's friend Leanna's been having trouble with… I don't what to call them – a cult? He's helping Ollie and Bart in Istanbul, though. So it's up to you."

"Great."

The beast seemed to lose patience with the stalking game we were playing. Letting out another roar that sent a shower of rocks down over my head, it swung back an arm.

No way I was going to let it land that blow.

Planting my foot against a jutting stalagmite, I launched myself forward like a diver. I curled my hands into fists and caught it in the midsection. The shockwave brought the roof down.

I was choking on dust and small stones by the time I dug my out.

Thankfully, only a portion of the cave ceiling had given way, and I could still get past and down the tunnel. The rock creature was nothing but a pile of rubble.

"Okay, Chloe," I said, "Got past Mr Ugly. I'm heading on down."

I almost slipped on some loose scree, but managed to hold my balance. I heard Chloe chuckling.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing, it's just…" she chuckled again, "You seem like you're in a good mood."

"I'm not!" I protested, "I almost got chewed up by Rock Biter from the Neverending Story!"

"Oh, I love that movie!" Chloe cooed.

"I'm so happy for you," I said, "But can we please focus? Any more surprises up ahead?"

"There shouldn't be," she said, "Apparently the leader of this group – Daniel Ganesh – has been using this machine he built into the cavern at the end of the tunnel. It animates whatever he wants. He's planning to build an army."

"I'm tired of people building armies," I muttered, "Everytime someone with delusions of Lex Luthor shows up, they want to build an army and take over the world."

Chloe chuckled again.

"What?" I barked, getting annoyed now.

"Don't worry about it, Clark," she told me, "You just sound… better, that's all. I haven't heard you even try to crack a joke since Lois left."

"Well… what do you want me to do? Sit around my loft, brooding about how my girlfriend ran off to Africa?"

"No, I'm glad you're back," she said, "It's just…"

She cut herself off. I wasn't going to let it slide that easily, though.

"Say what you want to say, Chloe."

The tunnel was almost pitch dark by now. I can see better than just about anyone in the dark, but even I was struggling. I was hesitant to use my speed if I couldn't see where I was going. I could smack into a wall and cause a cave-in that would tear down whatever was on ground level above me. There could be people down here and I might just run over someone. So, I had to pick my way down with care.

"I was just wondering," said Chloe, "If your newfound good mood had anything to do with another brunette who's made an unexpected return."

"That was a dangerously loaded comment," I said.

"It was supposed to be," she countered.

The tunnel widened, and suddenly grew brighter. There was a definite light source here, though I couldn't pick it out. I didn't get the chance.

Five more rock monsters had literally peeled away from the wall and were advancing towards me.

"We got company," I announced.

There was nothing to do but start swinging. As chunks of rock started flying around the cavern, I heard Chloe huff.

"Oh no," she said, "Some fight to the death isn't going to get you out of this. What's the deal with you and Lana?"

"There is no deal!" I said, ducking under a punch that would, most likely, have removed my head, "She's only been back for a few days."

"And you've been hanging out at the Talon ever since."

"Are you spying on me again, Chloe?"

I ducked through one of the creatures' legs, hoisted it up, and chucked it like a spear at another. They crumbled to dust.

"No," said Chloe, "I just talked to Lana, that's all."

"Then you should know everything there is to know. God knows, you girls talk enough."

"Ouch!"

The fourth creature jumped. It brushed the ceiling forty feet up and came plummeting towards me. I took off, making straight for it.

"Come on, Clark," said Chloe, "What's really going on? I know you weren't exactly hyped about seeing Lana again. Ever!"

The monster, with no way to reverse it's fall, fell victim to it's own momentum as I powered straight through it, severing it in half.

"I don't know," I admitted, "I guess she just… helps me forget, that's all."

"Helps you forget?" Chloe was incredulous, "Forget Lois?"

"No!"

Flipping over near the ceiling, I shot back down, managing to grab the last creature by the top of the head and piledrive it into the floor.

When I was done, I was actually starting to breathe quite heavily.

"She just…" I struggled to find clarity in my thoughts, "She helps me forget that without Lois… life doesn't seem worth living."

There was silence on Chloe's end for a long time.

"Wow…" she said, at last, "You really do fall hard, don't you Clark?"

That's when I felt a hammer blow to the back of my skull. I hit the dirt. My forehead cracked against the bare stone. Rolling over, I came face to face with another creature that I must have missed.

Angry now, I waited until it threw a punch. Then I grabbed it's arm and wrenched it off. I used the arm like a club and beat it into submission.

A few minutes later I was in the cavern at the end of the tunnel.

The machine the cult had built was huge. Easily thirty feet high and just as wide. It was made from a strange kind of metal, and had runes carved into it's face. I used my heat vision to melt the whole thing into the rock wall.

"Mission accomplished, Watchtower," I said.

"Good," said Chloe, "Return to base."

"I'm on my way."

"And Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"One more thing…" she said, "About Lana."

"What?"

"Be careful."

I didn't respond to that. I didn't know how.

.

.

.


	7. Stored Treasures and Pain

A/N: Hi, quick note.

It seems the reaction I'm getting to this story is... well, somewhat unexpected. I think my stories up to now have proved exactly which 'shipper' camp I'm in. I'm a Clois fan. Have been since I was like... five!

However, I wanted to write a story that had elements of Clana in it. I wanted to see if I can get back to the essence of her character that we actually liked way back when the show started. I don't think I'm betraying my kind by doing that.

The following chapter does have Lois in it, and the rest of the story will as well - believe me, she's part of it.

But I'm searching for the Lana we remember and, if by some miracle I do find her, then I'll consider it worth the effort.

I hope you guys bear with me through the search.

Thanks!

* * *

…**stored treasures and pain…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Lana? Lana, are you here? I got your text!"

I passed through the Talon's small foyer and found her standing in the middle of the room. She was facing the other way, her hands on her hips, staring at… well, the wall.

She didn't turn around when I came in. I was thrown. She must have heard me.

"Lana?"

She raised a hand, index finger extended, indicating I should wait.

"No, no… that won't work…" she muttered.

I was about to ask what wouldn't work, but she raised a hand again, shushing me.

Finally she sighed, put her hands together, and turned to me.

"Hey, Clark."

"I got the summons," I said.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you a favour."

"Sure."

"Can I use your truck tomorrow, while you're at work? I'm guessing you don't actually use it to get there."

"No, I, er… fly."

"Great. So, can I use the truck?"

"Sure," I said, "What for?"

"Well, I spoke to Chloe today," she said, "And since I do still technically own the building, I figured I might as well do something with it while I'm here."

"Like… what?"

"I'm going to re-model."

"The whole place?"

"Yeah," she said, "I was thinking about it, and… setting up this place the first time – working here every night… Sometimes I think that was the happiest time of my life."

"Except for the meteor freaks kidnapping you once a week."

"Except for that," she laughed.

"Are you sure?" I asked, "I mean… what happened to all your grand plans? Growing up, all you could talk about was getting out of Smallville and seeing the world."

"I've seen the world, Clark," she said, "It didn't make me happy."

"So, you want to stay? Forever?"

The question, and it's implications hung in the air. Lana met my eyes, and I could see a trace of uncertainty there.

"Is that a problem?" she asked.

"Of course not," I said, quickly, "I just want to make sure that… you know, that this is what you really want."

"I think it is," she said, "And anyway, it'll give me something to do for a while. If I get bored, or restless, I can just rent it out again and take off."

"Okay."

"Great. So… the truck?"

"What are you loading?"

"Materials. There's a great depot store on the way to Metropolis."

"Design Warehouse?"

"Yeah, you know it?"

"It's open now…" I suggested.

.

.

.

Two hours later, I was regretting the suggestion.

People who know about my abilities assume I don't get tired. While that may be true physically, I can get as mentally exhausted as anybody.

And following Lana up and down the endless aisles as she picked out new tables (to be delivered), plush couches (to be delivered), wood-finished window russets (to be carried by Clark) and wall drapings (to be carried by Clark), I was ready to find the bedroom department and take a nap in one of the display beds.

"How do women do it?" I moaned.

"Do what?" she asked, examining a free-standing lamp made of carved onyx.

"This! Shopping! I feel like I've been here forever!"

"Clark, this is just the big stuff," she explained, "When we come back for the little odds and ends that add character to the place, that's when we'll take our time."

"Oh no," I shook my head, "You're making that trip on your own."

"You're going to abandon me in my hour of need?"

"Absolutely."

She laughed.

"Okay, I guess we're done for tonight"

The clerk at the register was beaming at the size of the purchase, and graciously offered to send an assistant to help us load the truck. I declined. It always got on my nerves having to pretend I couldn't lift things.

"There's one more thing I need from you," said Lana, as I hit the freeway back to Smallville.

"What's that?"

"Your tool set."

"You're going to do everything yourself?"

"Of course."

"Lana, you don't have your powers anymore."

"That didn't stop me before," she argued.

"You had the team Lex hired to help you before," I pointed out.

"Hey, I helped!" she said, "I'd fetch things when they asked me to."

I chuckled, "It's okay," I said, "I'll lend a hand."

"You have to work."

"I'll take some time off."

"Clark, you don't have to do that."

"No, I want to," I assured her, "The vibe at the office these days… Well, it's not great. It'll be fun to do something else."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay," she grinned, "Bright and early tomorrow morning then."

"I'll be there."

"Oh, one condition!" she added, as an afterthought.

"What?"

"You have to wear those baggy jeans… You know, the one's all construction workers wear? That ride down everytime you bend over?"

"Only if you reciprocate," I said.

Her answering glare said it all.

.

.

.

When I got home, I headed straight for the closet under the stairs. It's where I kept all three of my tool sets. My dad had always insisted that I pack up the tools and take them out of the barn when I was done with them, so they wouldn't be exposed to the elements. It was habit by now.

The closet was stuffed to overflowing. There were several boxes containing my parents' belongings that I'd shoved in there when my mom moved out.

There were other boxes as well.

These I pulled out, and then settled on the floor to look through them – all thoughts of the tools vanishing from my mind.

One was a box of vinyl records.

I flicked through the titles – several Whitesnake albums, AC/DC, REO Speedwagon, Stone Temple Pilots…

A line from that show Chloe'd got me hooked on popped into my head – _"The greatest hits of mullet rock!"_

I smiled, and turned my attention to the next box. This one held a collection of shared mementos.

The foam finger Lois had bought at our first monster truck rally. Shelby's old dog collar that Lois had picked out. A photo of the two of us from a Press Association dinner. Our Daily Planet key chains that she'd mounted in a see-through casing, then immediately afterward declared as tacky and dumped in the box.

I pulled out the last item – a simple frame containing a sheet of notepaper.

_Lois' Rules of Reporting._

I smiled an old familiar smile as my eyes ran over the scrawled words that I'd long since memorised.

From…

_1) Always know your source. _

To…

_7) Put all the good stuff at the beginning. _

The ache came back.

It bit deep and clung on like a malignant tumour.

Breathing became difficult – nigh on impossible.

Suddenly it seemed like she'd been gone forever.

I leaned back against the wall, my feet splayed out before me, the frame clutched in my hand. I rubbed at my tired eyes and tried to concentrate on just getting past this feeling.

This feeling that I'd become a passenger in my own life story. That any drive or purpose I'd once had had deserted me.

Suddenly, I needed to hear her voice.

The hell with the time difference!

I sprang to my feet and grabbed the phone. Finding her phone number had been easy enough. Lois and Perry's hotel bill came back to the Daily Planet. One trip to the bursar's office on some pretext – a quick burst of X-Ray vision through the filing cabinet doors – and there it was.

I dialled the number, and waited.

It rang, and rang, and rang…

I started to get worried.

I reckoned it was close to five in the morning over there, and if Lois wasn't in her room…

Just when outright panic was starting to set in, I heard: "H'lo…?"

"Lois?"

"Who's'is?"

"Lois, it's Clark."

She didn't say anything for a while, but I heard her yawn. I could picture her sitting up in bed, her hair all mussed up in that… unbelievably sexy way. She had a habit of wiping the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand. She'd twist them both in small circles, the way a kid does. It was too cute for words.

"Clark, do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I just…"

"Is something wrong?"

"No," I said, "Well… yeah, kind of…"

"What is it?"

"Come home, Lois."

The silence was even longer this time. It spun out, and suddenly I could feel the absolute distance between us like a physical force. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore.

"I know what I said the last time we spoke. I know I told you to go… that I want you to get ahead, but…" I gnawed at my bottom lip, trying to find the words that would convince her, "I need you here, Lois. It's like…"

"Clark, please…"

"No, Lois, you have to listen to me…"

"I can't," she said, "Not now. I'm about seven cups of coffee away from this conversation."

She did sound tired. She wasn't annoyed, but I could tell that if I pushed it, annoyance wouldn't be far away. I didn't care.

"They're using fresh filters!" I blurted out.

"What?"

"In the coffee machine. At work. They use fresh filters everyday," I explained, "Instead of letting them run for the two-day cycle, even though you called that staff meeting a while back, explaining how a caffeine kick is a journalist's best friend…"

"I remember, Clark…"

"Well, nobody's listening," I said, aware of how pathetic I sounded, "And it's all… different. It's like it's not even the same newspaper anymore. And I'm tired of it. And I don't want to be there without you. And…"

I ran out of words. I ran out of pleas, even though I was sure I hadn't even remotely made my case. I just hung my head, the phone hooked on my shoulder, trying not to break down.

"I'm sorry, Clark," her voice was soft with understanding, "But what do you want me to do? Just pack it all in?"

"Yes."

"I can't."

"I know."

That admission cost me more than I realised. I knew how stupid this was… how unfair. She couldn't just give it up because I was lonely.

"What do you want me to do, Clark?"

'Tell me you miss me," my voice cracked, "Even if you don't mean it, just… tell me that and then, maybe, I can get through another day."

Again, the silence. Heavy. Intrusive. Unbearable.

"I do," she whispered, "More than you know. I'm sorry."

She hung up. The dial tone kicked in and the phone just fell from my fingers, clattering to the floor. I stared at the rules again, wishing she'd taken the time before she left to write another set…

_Lois' Rules for Getting Over a Broken Heart…._

_._

_._


	8. The Real Reason

…**the real reason…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

It was a chore just getting out of bed the next morning.

Calling Lois had proved a double-edged sword.

Just hearing her voice again was like a balm to my soul, easing my fears. But the regret in her voice haunted me.

She was hurting.

I could hear it.

And knowing that I was the one responsible for that…

I was like a robot as I got ready. Even in super-speed, I barely registered what I was doing as I took care of the morning chores and fed Shelby. I placed the call to my editor, informing him that I wouldn't be in for a few days. I didn't even bother waiting for an acknowledgement. I just hung up.

I took the truck into town, figuring we might need it later. I parked outside the Talon and went inside.

Lana was already busy.

She had her hair up, and she was wearing a set of overalls over a plain white t-shirt.

She'd cleared all the tables from the main space, stacking them against one wall. The chairs were set in racks, and she was attacking a piece of drywall with a crowbar.

"I see you already got started," I said, shrugging off my jacket.

"Yeah, well… I said bright and early," said Lana, "But I forgot about the legendary Kent sense of timekeeping."

She grinned at me. I didn't return it.

"Are you alright?" she asked, the grin replaced by a worried look.

I didn't answer directly.

"What do you want me to do?"

Lana studied me for a moment, looking like she was going to press the matter. Then, deciding against it, she just shrugged.

"See that strip of windows up there?" she pointed to a section above the counter, about twelve feet off the ground, "You're tall enough to reach it."

"Okay…"

"I need you to measure it, then cut those carbon sheets we bought so we can fit them in."

"They'll cover the windows," I pointed out.

"I'm aware of that," she rolled her eyes, "I'm going fit light fixtures into the gap, and cover it with glass."

"Right," I said, "You're the boss."

I followed her instructions, climbing a ladder to take the measurements. I didn't need a power-saw to cut the carbon, a regular saw made do. Lana removed the rest of the drywall, and set about grading the surface underneath. A full twenty minutes went by and we didn't say a word.

Only when I was back up the ladder, fitting the carbon sheets did she speak again:

"If you don't want to tell me what happened, Clark, that's fine," she said, "But I have to be honest, the brooding's a bit distracting."

"Was I brooding?"

"You do have it down to an art form."

I managed a tiny half-smile at that.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologise," she said, "But maybe talking about it will help."

"Maybe…" I said, "But first… what's next?"

I slotted the last strip into place and came down the ladder. Lana handed me a screwdriver.

"You can help me take the conduits down off all these pillars."

I nodded, and we set to work.

"I called Lois last night," I told her, careful not to drive the screwdriver in too hard or I'd rip a hole through the pillar.

"What did she say?"

"Hardly anything. She's not coming home. At least… not any time soon."

"She must be enjoying it, then," Lana reasoned.

"That's the thing," I said, "I'm not sure if it's really about the job."

"What else could it be?"

"Me."

Lana stopped what she was doing. She poked her head around the pillar and gave me an appraising look.

"What did you do?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

"Why do you automatically assume I did something?"

"Clark?"

"Okay…" I sighed, "She came to see me just before she left. She wanted me to be honest with her. To tell her who I am."

It was Lana's turn to sigh. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Been there…" she muttered.

"That's just it," I said,. "I don't want to make…"

I caught myself just in time, and shut up. Lana cocked her head to the side to looked at me again.

"You can say it, Clark. You don't want to make the same mistakes you made with me. It's okay… It's not like we can deny that we made mistakes."

"I just… I wanted it to be different with Lois," I said, "And for a while… it was. But it always comes back, doesn't it? My secret."

"I think I have a theory on why," said Lana.

She finished with the last screw and ripped the conduit out. She crossed to one of the tables and placed it on top.

"And your theory is…?"

"You can't hide who you are," she said, "Remember when we were in high school?"

"Uh… I think I vaguely recall it."

"Well, when we started high school, the two of us didn't really hang out. And to be honest… I hardly noticed you."

"Ow!" I feigned hurt, and just ripped the conduit free, screws and all.

"I'm sorry, but it's true," she said.

"Is there a point to this," I asked, "Or just a fun little trip back to Clark-Was-A-Geekville?"

"The point is… I didn't notice you because I didn't know you," she said, slowly.

I just stared at her, without a clue as to where she was going.

"But once I got to know you, that's when I started my whole mad quest to find out your secret.," she broke off, frowning, like she was trying to piece together the right way to put this, "To the people in your life, you're… you're too bright. You're larger than life. To anyone even remotely close to you, it's obvious that there's more to you than the mild-mannered front you put up."

"Um… I think there's a compliment in there somewhere…" I said.

"It is a compliment," she confirmed, "I sensed it, and obviously Lois did too."

"So, what are you saying, I should tell her the truth?"

"Is there a reason why you haven't yet?"

Lana started on another pillar and I joined her.

"Lois herself is the reason," I said, ripping at the screw with a vengeance, "I used to call her, as the Blur."

"Wow," said Lana, "That's a slippery slope."

"Tell me about it…" I muttered, "She took it… really seriously. Too seriously. She used to get involved in things she shouldn't have. She put herself in danger because of me."

"She's not some shrinking violet, Clark," said Lana, "Lois is a strong woman. She grew up around guys who can kill you in two seconds flat."

"That doesn't matter," I insisted, "You know the kind of things I come up against. You've seen it. Do you really believe I want her anywhere near that?"

"No, but it seems to me that Lois will get herself involved anyway."

"I know, but…" I backed away from the pillar, struggling to control my frustration, "She got it into her head that she was the Blur's sidekick. That she should take up any mission he set her. That working with him was her higher purpose!"

"Er… don't you mean you?"

"What?"

Lana stepped out from behind the pillar and came towards me. I backed up a step. The calculating look in her eyes worried me.

"You're the Blur, Clark," she said, "Why do you keep saying him?"

"Slip of the tongue…" I spluttered.

"Right," her voice was rife with disbelief, "What's really going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do."

I stepped away from her. Going from pillar, I started pulling the conduits out one by one.

Lana didn't let up. She followed me.

"It almost sounds like… like you resent the relationship she had with… _you_."

"But it's not me!" suddenly I was yelling.

Lana didn't even flinch. She kept that same, steady gaze locked on.

"Clark Kent…" she murmured, "The only man who can start a love triangle all by himself."

"Is that so wrong?" I demanded, "Is it too much to ask?"

"Is what too much to ask?"

"For her to love me for me!"

It was the first time I'd said it aloud, and once it was out… I realised that feeling had been there all along. It was behind my hesitance to tell Lois the truth. It was like… she was more free with the Blur than she ever was with me.

"If I tell her the truth, then I take away that chance," I said, "Any chance I might have that she'd just fall for me. For Clark Kent. The Blur's just a mask, Lana. It's not who I am."

"I know that, Clark," she said.

Stepping closer, she took my hands in hers, forcing me to meet her eyes.

"I understand," she said, "But… to Lois, it just feels like you're lying to her."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" I asked, "Fly to Africa and confess everything?"

"If that's what you want."

"I can't do that," I said, "She made her choice, and I'm not going to force her to change her mind. When she comes back… _If_ she comes back… then we'll see."

"Are you sure you can take that risk?"

"I have to," I said, "I just don't know if I can take being apart from her for much longer."

"I think I can help with that," said Lana.

My surprise at that statement must have registered, because she laughed.

"Not like that!" she chided me, "Get your mind out of the gutter! I mean, you can lose yourself in this…" she gestured at the room, "We take it one day at a time, we rebuild this place and, maybe, once enough time passes…"

"I'll feel better?"

"I can't promise that," she said, "But it's something to hope for."

I squeezed her hands, and offered her a smile.

"Thanks," I said.

"You're welcome," she smiled back, "Now fix the holes you ripped in the wall with your little tantrum."

I laughed, "Yes, ma'am!"

Still laughing, I got to work.

.

.

.


	9. Life Anew

…**life anew…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Lana was right. It did get easier.

We fell into a comfortable routine. I helped her cart all the old furniture to a Goodwill centre in Grandville, and stored the new furniture in my barn. We stripped all the bright plastic and neon out of the Talon's interior, covering the walls with new panelling that we painted in more subtle colours.

Three times we got into a paint-fight.

The first time, Lana wouldn't believe that I'd turned around and caught her cheek with the paintbrush by accident. She chased me around with a roller dripping with a kind of creamy peach colour.

"No fair!" she yelled, when I kept using my super-speed to avoid.

"Okay, no speeding," I said.

Then I floated up towards the roof and spent the next ten minutes following her around, allowing little globs of paint to drip into her hair.

She wondered aloud if all Kryptonians were childish morons.

Everyday, we'd grab lunch at Denny's, a diner just a few blocks over. They had a counter set up against the large street-facing window, and Lana and I would sit on the stools there and watch the Smallville traffic pass by.

"He's a fugitive on the run," said Lana, the following Friday, biting into a BLT sandwich, "Some white collar crime, but serious. Look at the way he's dressed. Purposely dowdy, like he doesn't want to draw attention to himself."

I frowned, and watched the guy she was talking about walk past the window.

"I think he just looks like a farmer," I said.

"Clark," she slapped my arm, "That's not the game! You're supposed to use your imagination. Aren't you a writer?"

"I'm a reporter," I said, "I deal in facts."

"You're no fun," she pouted.

I grinned, "Okay…"

I studied the people wandering on either side of the street. A woman caught my eye. She was moving slowly, taking her time as she window-shopped.

"Her…" I said, pointing, "She's… an heiress. See how undecided she is? She has all the money in the world, but she doesn't know what to do with it."

"Now you're catching on," said Lana, "What about him?"

"Ex-football player," I said, studying another middle-aged man who walked with a pronounced limp, "He was on the fast-track but he blew out his knee. Now he's taken over the family auto-shop."

"And her?"

"Another fugitive," I replied, staring at the dark-haired young woman, who was walking with her arms wrapped around herself, trying to create a protective cocoon, "But not from the law."

"Then from who?"

"An old lover. She got her heart broken, and now she's come home… She's deciding what to do with herself."

Lana went quiet. She finished her sandwich, and became very deliberate as she drank her coke.

"I'm sorry," I said, "That was… stupid of me. I shouldn't pry."

"It's okay," she said.

"I just can't help it," I confessed, "We've been spending all this time together, and I thought once you got comfortable with the idea that you were home…"

"That I'd tell you what happened to me?"

I shrugged, "Well… yeah."

"It's difficult, Clark," she said, "It's not something I really want to think about."

"A very smart person once told me that talking about it will help," I said.

Lana snorted and shook her head.

"Are you sure you want to know?" she asked.

"It's obviously bothering you," I said.

Lana nodded, but didn't say anything. She stared out the window, a haunted look drifting over her face. It was like she wasn't seeing the world outside anymore. Like I wasn't even there. She was remembering something, and the effect of the memory was so powerful I could see her shivering.

"Lana?" I put a hand on her arm, "Are you okay?"

"It happened in Asia," she said, "I'd heard about rumours about this… man. He's almost a myth, and he leads a secret society that has a base in the Himalayas. He's called Ra's al Gul… I thought he could help me."

"Did he?"

She shook her head, "I never found him. I didn't get the chance."

"Then what happened?"

She looked at me. There were tears in her eyes.

"I died," she said.

I was stunned. Before I could say anything, she was off her seat and out the door. Ignoring the rest of my own sandwich, I jumped off the stool and followed her.

She was walking fast, ducking through the press of people coming the other way. Just like the woman I'd seen, she wrapped her arms around her body, like she was suddenly so cold.

"Lana? Lana!"

She slowed, allowing me to catch up to her.

"What do you mean?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"I was climbing the face of a mountain," said Lana, detouring down a side street that would take us on a back route to the Talon, "It was too slippery to use my speed. I was afraid the tremors would cause an avalanche, and there were villages at the base. I shouldn't have bothered."

"Why?"

"There was an avalanche anyway."

"God…"

"Some villagers pulled me out. I'd been buried for over a week."

"Lana, I'm so sorry."

I put my hand on her arm, stopping her. We were in an alley. Lana faced me, but she kept her eyes averted. I pulled her into my arms, hugging her close.

"I remember the cold," she said, "So cold that it burned. Then there was just darkness… It felt like I was trapped in it… forever."

I felt her start to tremble, and held on tighter. She sniffed once, but didn't break down.

"When they pulled me out, my powers were gone," she said, "I don't know how. Maybe the cold neutralised the suit, or something, I don't care. I just…"

I pushed her back gently, keeping my hands on her shoulders.

"If it wasn't for me, you never would have…"

"Don't, Clark," she snapped, a sudden fire springing up in her eyes, "Don't blame yourself for this. I chose to steal the suit. I brought it on myself. I paid the price."

"But…"

"No!" she cut me off again, "I don't blame you. I could never blame you. I think… maybe it was justice."

"What?"

"I did some horrible things, Clark," she said, choked, "To you… to everyone around me. It became so easy for me to blame Lex for the person I became, but that darkness…. It was always inside of me. Maybe that was my penance."

"Lana, that's ridiculous!"

"Is it?"

She looked so hurt, so vulnerable…

I could just about imagine what she'd been through. When Lex collapsed the fortress on top of us, I'd been buried in that frozen wasteland myself. Only my time there was a lot shorter, and I'd been able to dig my way out.

"That's why I came back," she said, "I guess I wanted to find normal again. Find the life I never should have let go in the first place. A quiet town, with good friends… just… life."

"Well, you have it," I said, "If anything, you've got a second chance, and…"

"What?"

"I'm proud of you."

Suddenly, she laughed. It was laughter mixed with tears, and I hugged her again.

We'd been through a lot together over the years. Sometimes, it was hard to tell if the ordeals added up to anything. Standing there in that darkened alley, just holding her, I knew that it did.

She was taking a chance, trying to rebuild using nothing but her own unfading spirit. It was daring, and brave and a dream within reach.

Yes… I was proud of her.

.

.

.


	10. Almost Doesn't Count

…**almost doesn't count…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

The loft in my barn was my first Fortress of Solitude.

So many defining moments in my life had happened under that creaking ceiling, in the light coming through the large feed-window that opened out onto the golden stretch of Kansas corn.

It was still the place I went to when I needed to think.

I opened the trunk I kept beside the couch, and dug through the keepsakes I stored there. Old yearbooks, my letterman jacket, retired copies of The Torch…

Flipping through the yearbook from our junior year, I came across a photograph that made me smile.

Even if it was a sad smile.

Chloe, Pete, Lana and myself, in the stands watching a football game.

God! Were we ever that young?

I'd discovered the truth about my origins the year before – and had already been through a number of scrapes involving the meteor-infected, but still… it had all seemed simpler then.

Life threatening situations and passing history went hand in hand.

Another photograph – of Chloe at her computer in the Torch office. So serious…

Pete getting ready for swim team tryouts, posing like a contestant in the Mr Universe competition. Always such a goofball…

And Lana… on horseback at an equestrian meet.

Could the girl in the photo have known that just a few years later she'd 'die', buried in a tomb of snow and ice at the top of the world?

I needed to do something for her. Something special. I had an idea, but I'd need help.

I called Chloe and tasked her with getting Lana out of the Talon the next day. Chloe was more than willing to offer up an afternoon of shopping in Metropolis.

With Lana out of the way, I set everything up, then waited patiently for her to return, which she did around dusk. I was at my usual spot at the counter, sipping a cup of coffee.

"I see you got some work done today," said Lana, noting the new bowl-shaped chandeliers I'd installed.

"Some…" I said.

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

"Why?"

"You thought I forgot what day it is, didn't you?"

Lana smiled a shy smile, "Clark, you didn't have to go to any trouble…"

"Come on, Lana… it's your birthday."

"Something most women tend to ignore the older they get," she pointed out.

"Well, I'm not most women," I said, then, pulling a face, "Or something less disturbing."

She laughed, "What did you have in mind?"

"Come with me."

She followed me through to the back of the Talon, down a narrow hallway, to the door that led to the movie theatre. It was completely dark inside. I took her hand and guided her down the steps to the open area in front of the screen.

"Alone with you in a darkened movie theatre…" she muttered, "Okay… weird flashback."

I laughed, and came to a stop in front of the first line of seats.

"Okay, you ready?"

"For what?"

Four quick, pinpoint jets of heat vision and I lit the candles I'd placed around a large, soft blanket in front of the screen. There was a picnic basket, and an ice bucket with cans of soda.

Lana laughed, delighted.

"This is the big surprise?"

"Part of it," I said, "Sit down."

She got comfortable on the blanket. I zipped up to the projector room, where I'd spent an hour with a downloaded user's manual, trying to get it working again. I'd already set up the reel, and just let it play, before taking my seat next to Lana.

"Popcorn?" I offered, removing a store-bought packet from the picnic basket.

"Don't mind if I do..."

We popped two sodas, and clinked cans in a mock-toast.

"Happy birthday, Lana," I said.

"Thank you, Clark."

The movie started. When she saw what it was, Lana started laughing. It was a genuine laugh, welling up from her belly and bringing tears to her eyes. On the screen, Bugs Bunny was giving Elmer Fudd the run-around in a classic Looney Toons episode.

"You remembered…" Lana wheezed, when she could breathe again.

"Of course," I said, "It's ten years today. Can you believe it? Ten years since we sat on my truck, watching this on the side of the barn."

"That long?" she shook her head in disbelief, "Wow…"

"Yeah. Wow."

We fell into a comfortable silence as lost ourselves in the moving comic onscreen – the silence only punctuated by laughter when Bugs got the better of Elmer – which was _always_!

"I just don't get it," I said, as Elmer got stuck in the trap that he himself had set, and was now spinning lazily upside down from a tree.

"What?" asked Lana.

"He never learns!" I said, "I mean, these cartoons have been going for, what? Seventy years now? Has Elmer managed to catch Bugs even once?"

"The power of persistence."

"The power of stupidity."

"You can only wish for villains that gullible, right?"

I grinned, "It will make it easier."

The silence cloaked us again. I glanced over at Lana. Her face was lit by the light coming off the screen, and I felt a strange surge at the joy on her face.

It occurred to me that too many times over the past few years, that smile of hers – a smile that could light a room all on it's own – had been absent. Wiped away by fear and uncertainty.

It was good to see it again.

I leaned back on my elbows, with my legs stretched out in front of me, tossing pieces of popcorn in the air and catching it in my mouth.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

I looked at her again. Her eyes were still fixed on the screen, but the smile remained.

"For what?"

"For this," she said, "For the first time in… I don't know how long… I feel like I'm home."

I reached over and took her hand.

Suddenly her breath caught.

I felt it too, a quiver of sharp electricity darting from her hand to mine. Her eyes snapped up and suddenly the sound of the movie faded. It seemed the dancing lights of the candles grew dimmer, and for the briefest second, I felt like I was falling.

Magnetic.

Without thinking, I was leaning into her. She smelled like lilacs.

Lana seemed to be caught in it too. She couldn't look away as the distance between us closed. I saw her lips parting, and a flood of memories and buried feelings was suddenly released – so intense I felt myself growing dizzy.

We hovered with our faces just inches apart.

Then the spell broke.

Lana backed away, blinking rapidly and shaking her head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

I just stared at the floor, praying my heat vision wouldn't kick in at that moment.

"No," she breathed.

"Right… right, yeah…. that was…"

"Close?"

"Too close."

I stood up. Just an excuse to do something – anything – really.

"My soda's finished," I said, "I want coffee. Do you want coffee? I'll go get us some coffee."

Cursing under my breath, I stomped up the aisle and out of the theatre.

"Idiot!" I chided myself.

What the hell was I doing?

All that effort – the hours that had gone into getting Lana and I back to a place where we could be friends again, and _that_ almost happens!

I wasn't surprised. We'd always been attracted to each other. We'd loved each other for so long it was almost like a default setting, but…

It was over.

It had been over for a long time.

I was so caught up in my own self-recrimination that I didn't even hear the front doors open as I set out two mugs and started the coffee machine. I was drumming my fingers on the counter, oblivious to the world around me when a figure stepped out of the shadows.

"Smallville?"

My head snapped up.

The lights were off, but she was standing in a patch of moonlight coming through the windows. She had a large rolling suitcase by her side, and a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Dressed in jeans, and a tight blue top, she just stood there, staring at me.

I stared back.

Seconds seemed to draw out like hours.

I forgot to breathe.

All thoughts of Lana vanished from my mind.

I didn't bother rounding the counter, I vaulted straight over it, covering the distance between us in two great strides.

"Lois!"

It was the same scene from a year ago, only played in reverse. This time I was the one rushing towards her, pulling her into an embrace. This time I was the one smiling as I buried my face in her hair and breathed in the scent of her.

Her shampoo smelled like apples… and home.

"Lois…" I whispered again.

For a second she seemed to hesitate, then she wound her arms around me, pulling me in tight.

I don't know how long we stayed like that. I didn't care.

Sudden tears stung my eyes, and I almost choked on the relief I felt to have her there – back in my arms again.

Where she belonged.

Eventually, she disentangled herself and stepped away from me. I tried to read the expression on her face, and failed. She kept her head up, her gaze unflinching, but there was… something… there. A veil covering her thoughts.

"Are you back? For real?" I asked, aware of how desperate I sounded and not giving a damn.

"Yes," she said, "Surprise, surprise! I got run out of Kenya."

"What happened?"

"It's a long story," she said, "One I'd be more than willing to share some other time, but right now, I just want to get upstairs and into bed. It felt like that flight would never end."

"Why didn't you call me?" I said, "I would have picked you up."

Lois didn't answer. She grabbed the handle of her trolley-bag and wheeled it towards the stairs. She stopped by the counter. I came up behind her, waiting for her to say something.

"Got company?" she asked.

I looked at the counter, and the two mugs standing there, ready.

"Yeah," I said, "It's, um… Well…"

I was saved the trouble of finding an explanation, because at that moment, Lana came through the door.

"Clark? What are you doing? Grinding the beans yourself? You…"

Lana broke off when she spotted Lois. The two women stared at each other – shock apparent on both their faces.

"Lois," Lana was the first to break the silence, "Welcome back."

"Uh, to you too… I guess…" said Lois.

She turned to me, and gave me _that_ look. The Lois Lane reporter-mode look, where all the questions she wanted to ask seemed to radiate out of her eyes.

"Lana's been back for a couple of weeks," I explained, "We're, uh… we're redoing the Talon."

Lois' eyes seemed to take in the changes in the room for the first time. The bare sockets, the unpainted sections...

"Are you staying in Chloe's room?" she asked.

"Yes," said Lana, "Chloe's been spending most of her time with Oliver anyway."

"So, we're going to be roommates?"

I don't know why, but the thought of that filled me with sudden fear.

"I guess…"

"Cool," said Lois, "Now, I'll get out of your way. You two were obviously busy. I'll just grab a shower, and hit the hay."

With that, Lois plucked up her suitcase and darted up the stairs. I just stood at the bottom, staring up at her, unable to move. Lana came alongside me.

"Clark?" she said, softly.

I looked down at her.

"Are you really that big an idiot?" she asked.

"What?" I was offended.

"You've been pining after Lois for months!" said Lana, "And now she's back and you're just going to make do with a two minute conversation? Get up there!"

"But she said…"

"It doesn't matter what she said! Go!"

It was all the prompting I needed. I took the stairs three at a time and burst into the apartment.

"We need to talk!" I announced.

Lois was busy heaving her suitcase up onto the bed. She left it there and came out into the living area.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why? _Why?_" I was dumbstruck, "You've been gone for months! We've only spoken once! I know I hurt you when I told you to take the job, but I didn't think you'd cut me out completely!"

"Is that what you think happened?"

"Is there another explanation?" I shot back.

"I don't have the energy for this…"

She started to turn away, but I stalked over to her, grabbing her by the arms and forcing her to stand still.

"What did I do that was so wrong?" I demanded, "The fact that I didn't ask you to pass on this great opportunity… that's a reason for you to cut me out?"

"That's not the reason."

"Then what is?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad."

"God, Clark! Look at us!" she yelled, "I've been home for all of five minutes, and already we're fighting!"

"So?" I said, "That's what we do. That's Lois and Clark. We fight. We argue. But we're always honest with each other."

"Really? Always?"

"Look, if this is about Lana… Nothing happened."

"It's not about Lana."

"Well, you're going to have to give me something to work with, because I don't…"

"You didn't tell me you were the Blur!"

That shut me up.

.

.

.

AN: So, Lois is back... sound off in the reviews...


	11. Reason for a Hero

…**reason for a hero…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

I didn't know what to say.

My mouth flapped uselessly, like a freshly-landed fish, and words escaped me.

She knew.

Lois knew the truth.

I wanted to explain. I wanted to know how she found. I wanted to gauge her reaction, but…

Nothing.

No words.

Fortunately, that didn't matter, because Lois, true to form, didn't need any prompting to set off on a rant of her own.

"I found out just before I left, okay?" she said, "And it's the reason I left, but not the reason you think. So stop thinking it. I know why you didn't tell me. I told you not to tell me, so I'm not going to explode all over you for doing what I told you to do, but it's crazy and it's confusing, and I've spent the last few weeks just walking around in... like... this daze because Clark Kent is The Blur! It's mind-blowing, and I still don't think I get it! Well, not really, but I…"

"Lois…"

"I think you need to give me a chance to get my head around it before we dissect this a hundred different ways. I don't know what it means for us – if there still is an _us_ – and I get that I haven't handled it in the most mature way, but I mean, can you blame me? There I was thinking you were just Smallville – my Smallville – and instead you're a hero? How am I supposed to…?"

"Lois!"

"…even process something like that? It's impossible! It's…"

"_Lois!"_

"What?"

I just stared at her. I still didn't have anything to say, I just wanted her to stop. She needed to stop before she passed out.

"Just take a breath," I told her.

She took a breath.

"Good… good…" it was like coaxing a frightened deer from the shadows, "Now, first things first… how did you find out?"

Lois actually laughed at that. It was a little high-pitched and somewhat fearful, but still… it was a laugh.

"You kissed me, you idiot," she said, "After my near-fatal face plant into the phone booth. You were in your… Blur get-up," she waved a hand up and down, "And you kissed me. Did you think I wouldn't know?"

"To be honest I wasn't really thinking at all," I admitted, "When you left the barn, I thought that was the last time I'd see you, but then… there you were. I just… I had to."

"Well, that's how I knew," she said.

I nodded. Stepping past her I approached the window. I stared at the street outside, suddenly so afraid.

This was my biggest fear come to life.

Lois had discovered who I am.

And it had sent her running.

Across an ocean.

Lois must have sensed the shift in me because she came closer.

"Stop it," she said, gently.

"Stop what?"

"I know you, Clark," she said, "You're beating on yourself. You think I found out that you were… more than human and I freaked out. Well, that's not what happened. That's not why I went to Africa."

"Then why?"

I turned away from the window. The light from the neon marquee outside cast her face into stark relief. She held my eyes, but only for a moment. Then she looked away.

"How many times have you saved me, Clark?" she asked.

The question threw me. I just stared at her, confused. Lois retreated a few steps, apparently running over the various scenarios in her head.

"I always thought the Blur took a special interest in me because I was the only journalist who bothered to try to get to know him," she said.

"You were the only journalist who bothered," I said.

"I know, but… that's not the reason, is it?" she insisted, "You were always there because… because of the way you feel about me."

"So what?" I said, "Lois, no matter what the circumstances, I'm always going to be there for you. I'm always going to save you."

"Exactly," said Lois, as though I'd just proved her point.

I didn't have a clue what her point was.

"Lois, what are you trying to say?"

"All those times I got myself into trouble," she went on, "All those times I didn't listen to that voice inside telling me I was stupid for taking such risks, because somehow I knew you'd be there to catch me…"

"Wha–?"

"How many people did you ignore because you were chasing after me?" she asked, "How many people got hurt because you were too busy cleaning up my messes?"

"What?"

I was stunned. She looked so earnest – so serious, I could hardly wrap my mind around it.

"Lois, is that… is that what you really think?"

"It's the truth, isn't it?"

"No!"

I crossed the floor until I was standing right in front of her. Cupping her chin in my hand I tilted her head up, forcing her to meet my eyes – to read the truth there.

"You do take risks, and… sometimes, the stuff you do… well, stupid _is_ the word…"

"Gee, thanks…"

"But Lois, you have to know one thing… The reason I've been able to do what I do – becoming The Blur, saving people, giving them hope, everything…. It's because of you."

"Yeah, right," she tried to back away again, but I wouldn't let her.

"I mean it," I said, "Last Fall, when you disappeared… Lois, I was a shadow of myself. I was drifting through the world, but I wasn't a part of it. You keep me grounded. You give me a reason to keep fighting."

"You mean it?"

I could see the fear in her eyes. Any doubt on my part would break her – I knew it.

"This last month… I've been trapped in a nightmare," I told her, "Nothing seems… worth it… without you. If you believe anything, believe that. I need you, Lois Lane."

She smiled as tears leaked from her eyes. I brushed them away.

Folding into her, I caught her lips in a kiss.

Suddenly, all the fear, the pain, the anguish… it just vanished.

Holding her again… touching her, tasting her… it was like the world – cast in shades of pale, lifeless grey – suddenly came back in bright Technicolor.

She flung her arms around my neck. I curled one hand around her waist and lifted her effortlessly. Our lips never parted.

We were joined – mind, body, soul… and it was like a fire had been lit inside of me.

"I missed you…" she whispered.

It was everything I'd been waiting to hear… and all I ever needed.

.

.

.


	12. The Point Of All This

…**a reason for all this…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

When I woke up, it was still dark out, but I could see the faint light of dawn trying to pierce the grimness on the other side of the window.

Lois was lying in the crook of my arm, her hand splayed open on my bare chest.

She looked so peaceful.

Then she snored.

I had to fight the urge to laugh, or I'd wake her.

Gently, I rolled her onto her back and freed my arm. Moving slowly, and quietly, I slid out of the bed.

I wanted to put on a pot of coffee, so she'd have a fresh cup as soon as she woke up.

I tiptoed into the living room and headed for the kitchen. I was startled when I spotted Lana on the couch. She was awake, reading by the light of a lamp.

"Hey," I said, "You're up early."

Then I noticed the blanket and pillows on the couch.

"Did you sleep out here?"

"Yeah," Lana smiled, a naughty smile, "Happy as I am for you two, Clark, I didn't want to be on the other side of the wall listening in all night."

I could literally feel the flush creep up my chest and set my face on fire.

"I… wha… _Lana!_"

She just laughed, delighted by my discomfort. I set about making the coffee, so I wouldn't have to look at her.

"Oh, Clark…" she teased, "Are you blushing?"

"Keep old filter in… use strongest brand... seven big spoonfuls…" I chanted, darting around the kitchen.

"You are!"

Lana was enjoying this_ way_ too much.

"Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Oh no!" she shook her head, "I wanna talk about this!"

"Lana, please…"

She laughed again.

"Okay, Clark," she said, "You know, for someone who's bulletproof, you have really thin skin."

"Thank you," I heaved a sigh of relief.

I filled the machine up with water, slotted the pot in and turned the percolator on. I approached the couch and Lana scooted over for me. I sat down.

"So… this doesn't bother you at all?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Me and Lois," I said, hesitant, "Because… you know… last night... when we were watching the movie…"

It was as close as I could get to mentioning our almost-kiss.

"I thought we'd just pretend that didn't happen," said Lana.

"Oh. Okay… good idea."

"I'm happy for you, Clark," she said, "Really."

"Thanks."

"Did you sort everything out?" she asked.

"Yeah. Lois, er… Turns out she knew about me. She figured it out."

"That's great," said Lana, "It's one intense conversation you don't have to go through."

"Yeah," I agreed, "It takes a load off."

"So, I suppose you'll be going in to work with her today?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Why not?"

"Because I promised you that we'd finish up downstairs. I'm not going to work until we're ready for the grand re-opening."

"You don't have to do that, Clark."

"I want to," I said, "I'm glad Lois is back, and that things are okay between us, but… the fact is, I wasn't okay. And working on this… project… with you… it's really helped me. You pulled me back from a dark place, Lana. I'm not going to forget that."

"I saved you?"

"I guess you did."

"Well, it's about time!"

I laughed. I got to my feet, and turned towards the bedroom.

"I should get going," I said, "The chores at the farm won't take care of themselves. Lois should be dead to the world for another hour or so. Tell her I'll see her tonight?"

"Sneaking out of her bed without a goodbye?" Lana pulled a face, "I never pegged you as suicidal, Clark."

"Just… tell her. Please?"

"Fine."

"Thanks."

I headed for the room.

"Clark?"

I turned back.

"It wasn't just you, you know?"

"What?"

"Rebuilding the Talon with you… it helped me too."

"Good," I smiled, "I'm glad."

.

.

.

The fact was, there wasn't much left to do in the Talon. There was only one section of the wall that still needed to be painted, which Lana and I got out of the way fairly quickly, and then it was just a matter of carting in the new furniture.

Lana had hired a large van, so we wouldn't have to make multiple trips to the farm. I parked it outside the barn, and started loading the couches and tables. Lana sat on a bale of hay, sipping juice and just watching me. Shelby had his head in her lap, and she scratched him absently behind the ears.

"You know, if you weren't so scrupulous, you could have made a lot of money as a professional delivery service," she said, as I scooped up a three-seater sofa with one hand.

"I'm sure that would have gone down real well with my dad," I said.

Lana grinned. She dug a biscuit out of… somewhere… and tossed it up in the air. Shelby caught it expertly.

My phone rang.

"Is that Lois?" she asked.

"I doubt it," I said, digging the phone out and checking the Caller ID, "Yup… it's Gary. He works with us."

"Why's he calling you? Do they need you to come in?"

"They need me to run interference."

"What?"

"I made the mistake of telling Lois that… um… that they were kinda laughing at her when they heard the story about her getting arrested in Africa."

"Clark!" Lana chided me, "You didn't!"

"'Fraid so…"

"Those poor people…" Lana shook her head, "They must be terrified…"

"They can handle themselves for a couple of days," I chuckled.

I loaded one more plush armchair and closed the van.

"That's it," I said, "Let's finish this."

.

.

.

The Talon was a whole new place once we were through.

The softer hues on the walls and the dim lighting gave it a cosy feel. We'd replaced the regular table and chair sets with low-slung, leather fronted coffee tables, banked by deep armchairs and sofas. It was Lana's idea to put in the bookshelves, which gave the place the air of a homey old bookstore, where you could relax with a classic while sipping your coffee.

We couldn't stop smiling as we surveyed our handiwork.

"It's amazing!" I told her, "You really have great taste."

I idly turned the ceramic bowl on one of the little side tables, filled with scented stones that made the place smell like a meadow.

"That's not what you were saying at Design Warehouse when we bought all this," she said, "As I recall, your exact words were…"

"I know what my exact words were!" I cut in, "And anyway, you can't take what a guy says on a marathon shopping trip at face value. We're not at our best in those situations."

"You threatened to fly me to the top of the Empire State Building, and drop me over the side!"

"And in that moment I meant it!"

Lana just laughed, and flopped down onto a couch. She seemed to sink into it.

"I think I'm gonna stay," she said, from somewhere in the recesses of the couch, "I'm going to give this another try."

"Was there any doubt that you would?"

"Some," she admitted, "Especially after I told you about… what happened to me."

"Lana…"

"I didn't want you feeling sorry for me, Clark."

She propped herself up on her elbows and regarded me, her expression serious… and a little wistful.

"I used to wonder if there was really a point to any of this," she said.

"A point to what?"

"What we've been through. Two meteor showers, a parade of people trying to kill us… Lex!"

"And is there a point?" I asked.

"I think so," she said, "I think the point was we had to go through all of that to get us here. To this moment in our lives. I had to leave Smallville in order to find out that it really was home."

"And me?"

"You had to face the nightmares of the world, so you could discover that you're the hero the world needs," she said, "I'm so proud of you, Clark."

I was blushing again.

"I was given certain gifts, Lana," I said, "I had to use them."

"You don't see it, do you?" she was incredulous, "How many people have we met with abilities far beyond what normal people can do? And how many of them became heroes? You're more than that, Clark. You always have been. You're… a symbol. You bring hope."

I stared at the floor, her words ringing in my ears. Lana sat up, concerned at my sudden silence.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm perfect."

I stood up, and held out a hand to her.

"I want to show you something…"

She frowned, but she took my hand.

.

.

.

"It's very… blue," said Lana.

"That's it? That's all you've got to say?"

"Well, I can't really see the full picture," she said, "Put it on."

I hesitated.

We were in my loft. On the table was a box from my mom. I was holding the gift she'd sent me. I don't know if she made it herself, or had it made somewhere. It was a suit. It felt like it was woven from some strange material that I wasn't familiar with - extraordinarily light, but tough. I could stretch it quite a bit.

It fitted like a catsuit. Over that, I was supposed to wear a pair of… undershorts… and a golden belt. Red boots with gold trim that came up to midcalf. And a cape.

"Is the cape really necessary?" I asked.

"It'll look gorgeous when you're flying," said Lana.

I shrugged, and regarded the costume again. On the chest, was the crowning piece. The shield of the House of El, in brilliant gold and crimson, standing out proudly on the chest.

"I'm gonna look ridiculous," I muttered.

"Put it on!" Lana was getting impatient.

One more sigh, then…

I used my speed to squeeze into the costume. To Lana, It would look like a small tornado whirling in front of her.

When I was done, I just stood there, waiting for the verdict.

Lana gasped. Her eyes flared and she took a step back, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Oh, Clark…" she breathed.

"Go ahead," I said, "I look ridiculous!"

I looked down at myself. Lana was right. It was very… blue!

Also, there were no pockets. I tend to put my hands in my pockets, but that option was denied me. At a loss, I just folded my arms across my chest.

"You look… wonderful!" she said.

"What?"

I wasn't going to take what she said at face value. But the look in her eyes spoke volumes. Once again… she looked at me with awe.

"You should do something with your hair," she said, "Take away the scruffy look."

"The scruffy look?"

"It hardens your features."

"Why?"

"You'll have to do something if you don't want people to recognise you," she pointed out, "Because that…" she pointed at the suit, "Is not something to just blur around in. You have to let people see it. You _have_ to!"

"It's that impressive?"

"Tell your mom I said she's a genius!"

"Can I take it off now?" I pleaded.

"Sure," she said, "Just do one thing for me."

"What?"

"When you show it to Lois tonight, set up a camera somewhere where she can't see it."

"Why?"

"Because the look on her face, when she sees _you_ in _that… _is going to be priceless!"

.

.

.


	13. Taking Flight

…**taking flight…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

I was driving myself crazy.

I raided the attic for an antique free-standing mirror my mom had picked up at a flea market, and stood it in the loft. Then I spent the next hour examining my reflection from all angles.

The very concept of the costume was strange to me. In order to be seen in it, I had to stand still long enough for humans to actually get a glimpse, and I'd spent the last few years doing everything I could to make sure that didn't happen.

I wanted Lois to be impressed when she saw me.

For the first time, the thought of a snide remark from Lois Lane - a distinct possibility, for sure - filled me with terror.

I had to pull this off. But no matter what I did, I couldn't find an angle where I didn't look like a complete idiot!

_The Military Pose – _Eyes up, chin out, arms straight down, feet together – _Idiot!_

_The Principal Pose – _Head slightly tilted, eyes glaring, fists on hips – _Idiot!_

_The Paris Hilton Pose – _The less said about that, the better…

Only when I glanced at the clock on the table did I realise that Lois was forty-five minutes late. Now, that in itself wasn't an anomaly. To Lois Lane, punctuality was something that happened to other people.

But I'd nagged Lana to make sure she got here on time. I was so nervous, it was like our first date all over again, and it must have come across that way because Lana took pity on me, promising to drag Lois out of the apartment herself if needs be.

But she was late.

I didn't want to panic and just fly over, so I called Lois. Her phone went to voicemail.

I tried Lana, but it just rang.

Now the nerves were really picking up.

I decided to go over there. But what to do with the costume? It occurred to me that this would become a regular problem. If I was going to wear it full-time, would I have to carry a kit bag around with me?

That notion seemed a bit ridiculous.

I studied myself in the mirror as I puzzled it over. I ran my hand up the my arm, relishing the feel of the fabric. To call it skin tight would be an understatement. It curved to every ridge of muscle.

Almost like…

Like long-johns – the thermal underwear my dad was so fond of in winter. In fact, he liked it so much, he'd wear it under…

And there was the solution.

I zipped inside and grabbed one of my work suits. The costume didn't add any noticeable bulk to my frame if I wore the suit over it. The cape folded up and tucked into my pants just like a shirt.

Changing into the costume wouldn't be a problem because I was already wearing it.

Pleased at my own ingenuity, I took off for the Talon, using the cover of night to mask my flight. I landed in the back alley and made my way around to the front.

"Lois!" I called, as I stepped into the foyer, "Lana? Are you guys here?"

"Clark…"

The voice was so soft a human wouldn't have picked it up.

Instantly on alert, I rushed into the main room.

The first thing I noticed was the blood.

There was a smear running the length of the aisle down the centre of the room to the counter. There, propped up against the wood, her hand clutching at a gaping hole in her stomach, was Lana.

I raced across the room and fell to my knees in front of her.

"Lana? What happened? Are you okay?"

Lana's face clenched into a painful grimace. Blood was leaking out through her fingers.

"Some guys… came for Lois…"

"What?"

Lana groaned, pressing harder at the wound. She'd been shot, and the amount of blood she was losing made every moment critical.

"It's okay," I told her, scooping her up as gently as possible, "You're gonna be okay."

More than ever, I was grateful that I could fly now. It was faster, and the motion wouldn't tear at Lana's wound as I moved. I set down behind an ambulance next to the Smallville Medical Centre. Hurrying around to the front, I kicked in the door. I kicked a little too hard because the door flew off it's hinges.

"Doctor!" I screamed, "I need a doctor!"

An outraged Attending rushed towards me, probably intent on chewing me out for breaking the door. But one look at Lana and he let it go.

"What happened?" he asked me.

"I don't know," I told him, "I found her. I think she's been shot!"

"Nurse!" he called, "We have a possible GSW! Get a gurney in here! Down to Trauma One, stat!"

The corridor became a hive of frenzied activity, as a couple of orderlies wheeled in a gurney. I placed Lana down on top of it. A nurse rushed in with an oxygen mask, and tried to get it over Lana's face. Lana blocked her.

"Clark…" she wheezed, "The men… from Africa… Lois… she…"

The nurse wouldn't let her finish. She whipped the mask over Lana's nose and mouth, silencing her. Then they all raced down the hall. All I could do was stand there…

And panic.

The men from Africa!

Obviously she meant the politician Lois had exposed. He obviously hadn't been content with Lois being extradited back to the States.

They'd come for her.

But where were they now?

And Lana had been shot. She was bleeding so badly.

"Please…" I begged the sky, "Please… let her make it…"

I grabbed my phone and called Chloe. She was at Watchtower. I filled her in on what had happened. Chloe did her thing on the computer and learned that Philemon Sbanga, and an entourage of three other men had landed in Metropolis that morning. After that, they vanished off the grid. They didn't check into a motel. They didn't rent a car. It was like they…

"Hold on, Clark," said Chloe.

I heard her tapping at some keys.

"One of the men with Sbanga… a John Nash… used his passport to hire a plane at a private airfield just outside the city."

"When?"

"Four hours ago."

"They're in a plane?" I grunted.

Planes were easier than cars because there were less of them, but still… it would take time to search every plane in Kansas – grounded or in flight. And who knew what they were planning for Lois?

"Thanks Chloe," I said, "I'd better get on it."

"I'll make my way there," said Chloe, "Go get her, Clark."

I hung up. I was still torn. I decided to risk one last look in on Lana, just to make sure she'd be okay.

I was past the nurses on duty before they could blink.

They'd just settled Lana down on an operating table. I came up to the window, sickened by the sight of her just lying there, so helpless. Lana turned her head, and spotted me.

A nurse dragged over a canister of anaesthetic, but once again, Lana stopped her from placing the mask and knocking her out.

Her lips moved.

"Clark… can you hear me?"

It was barely a whisper, but I nodded.

"I can hear you."

"You can… find her…" every syllable was a supreme effort, but Lana soldiered on, "Discovered something… my… my powers… I could hear… I could hear your heart… beating."

I stepped up closer to the window, frowning, trying to understand.

"Focus Clark…" she whispered, "Focus on Lois… her heartbeat… You can do it…"

The nurse finally won the battle, and managed to get the mask in place. A turn of the wheel and the anaesthetic gas flooded Lana's system. In seconds, she was out cold.

I stepped back, considering her advice.

It wasn't anything I'd tried before.

But it was the only option I had.

I sped outside, round the back of the hospital where there would be less distraction. Then, closing my eyes, I tried to focus my hearing.

It was like tuning in a radio. First, there was a flood of random noise as every sound in the immediate vicinity pressed in on me. A dog barking three streets over. The wail of a car alarm on Main Street. The anguished sobs of a young mother in the hospital, praying for her baby to live.

One by one, I tuned it all out – centering my mind on a sound I hadn't even realised I knew by heart.

The steady beat of Lois' heart.

I could feel my senses – my will – travel away from me in an ever-expanding arc, touching on one sound, discarding it, and moving onto the next.

Someone watching the news. Someone writing a letter. Someone closing a squeaky gate. Someone tapping a rhythm on a table…

I flicked through them all, until…

There it was.

…_bump… bump bump… bump bump… bump…_

…_bump… bump bump… bump bump… bump…_

Lois!

Striding to the end of the alley, I hooked my fingers in the folds of my shirt, ripping it clear and exposing the crest on my chest. A whirl – a blur – and I took to the sky!

The cape fluttered behind me as I flew, faster and ever faster, my mind trained on that one sound above all others…

I was barely conscious of what I was doing.

I just latched onto her heartbeat, and let my body pull itself towards it. I had to dodge a 747 over the outskirts of Metropolis, but I didn't even slow down.

Lois' heartbeat grew louder as I drew closer. They were heading due north, making a break for Nebraska. It was all open land out here – hundreds of acres of corn and nothing else.

The sky was clear – a full moon hanging like a silver dollar above the horison and I spotted the plane easily. When I got to within a hundred feet, I saw four figures fall from the plane.

Seconds later, the whip of parachutes opening. I halted in mid-air, zooming in on each figure. None of them was Lois.

I X-Rayed the plane. She was in there, slumped in the pilot's seat. She wasn't moving, and the plane was going down.

I took off again, overtaking the plane as it barrelled towards the ground. I spun around until I was facing it head on, and slowed my flight. Ignoring the whirring propeller, I grabbed the end of the nose, my hands crunching into the metal. I slowed some more, breaking it's momentum. I pressed down with my right hand until the plane levelled out. Then, constantly slowing down, I brought it down to ground level until the wheels touched the earth. It was a simple matter of easing to a stop after that.

I rushed around to Lois' door and wrenched it away. She had a cut above her eye and she was unconscious, but she was breathing. Another quick X-Ray of the engine revealed that it wasn't in any danger of exploding any time soon, so I felt safe enough leaving her there.

I was angry, and I needed to let off some steam.

The men in the parachutes never got to hit the ground.

I grabbed each chute in mid-flight, and dragged them across the sky like macabre marionettes. I used the cords of the chutes themselves to tie them all up. Then I plonked them down on a steep hill.

They just stared at me, wide-eyed and terrified as I hovered in front of them.

"Who are you?" asked one of them, a tall, powerful black man.

"Are you Philemon Sbanga?" I countered.

"I am."

"I'll call the police to come and get you," I told him, "But I wanted to warn you personally… come after Lois Lane again, and I might not drop you on a hill next time."

Lois was awake when I got back to the plane. She hobbled out of the seat and landed on unsteady legs.

"Easy Lois," I said, flying up to her and offering a steady hand.

She clutched at it until she regained her balance.

Then she looked at me.

She blinked.

She looked at me again.

"What…? What are you wearing?" she asked.

I was confused for a second. In my panic I'd completely forgotten about the costume. Instantly self-conscious I backed away from her.

"My mom made it," I said, as if that was an excuse, "What, er…? What do you think?"

"It's very… blue…" she said.

I had to laugh, hearing her mimic Lana's comment on seeing the suit for the first time.

Lana!

The panic came back, fresh and angry.

"Lana was shot," I told Lois, "She's in surgery now."

"Well, get us there already!" said Lois.

She put up her arms, like a baby begging for a ride. I managed a swift smile as I scooped her up into my arms.

"You ready for this?" I asked.

"Fly me to the moon, Smallville," she said.

So I did.

.

.

.


	14. The Perils of Eavesdropping

…**the perils of eavesdropping…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

The aftermath of the shooting and attempted plane crash was… divergent.

Sbanga and his cronies were arrested. There was some upper-level wrangling before they were shipped off back to Kenya, where we were assured they'd stand trial. I flew to Kenya on the day their trial started, and the sight of me standing in the back of the courtroom was enough to convince all four men to plead guilty.

There was a second consequence that I hadn't foreseen.

Lois blamed herself for Lana getting shot. It didn't matter what Lana, Chloe or I said, Lois stuck to the theory that her own recklessness in Kenya led to Lana getting a bullet torn through her gut.

The surgery was successful, and Lois installed herself at Lana's bedside. Whenever I showed up to visit, Lois was there. First reading to Lana when she was too weak to do anything on her own, and then just chatting the night away. For the first few days, some brave nurses tried to point out to Lois that the hospital had certain rules – like visiting hours. After that, I noticed that there were fewer nurses willing to work the ward that Lana was on.

I was glad the two of them were spending time together. They were both such a huge part of my life that I allowed myself to hope that they could become real friends.

I stopped being glad about a week after the incident.

I entered the hospital with a batch of fresh wildflowers, picked in the woods where Lana loved to ride her horse as a child. I greeted nurses, orderlies and doctors on my way. I'd spent so much time in the place over the years that I knew virtually everybody.

"Hey, Clark!"

One of the patients, a young man named Dylan, who suffered from a rare blood disease that required frequent transfusions and numerous trips to the hospital, greeted me from his usual spot in the waiting room.

"Hi Dylan," I threw him a wave.

"Come to see your wife and your girlfriend?" he asked.

"That's not funny," I told him. Then, after a few seconds' thought: "Wait… which one's my wife, and which one's my girlfriend?"

Dylan laughed.

"I'd be careful if I were you," he said, "I walked past Lana's room earlier, and they were cracking up."

"What?"

"Laughing, dude!" he said, "And one thing I've learned in my years…"

"You're seventeen."

"…is that when chicks laugh like that, it's not a good sign for us bros, y'know?"

"I'll keep that in mind," I said.

Dylan just shrugged and went back to reading a magazine. I carried on down the hall to Lana's room. But Dylan's warning nagged at me, so before I reached it, I tuned in my hearing and, sure enough, Lois and Lana were in the middle of a conversation.

"Wait… wait… I've got it," Lois was saying, "It's something like this…"

There was silence for a few seconds, then Lana burst out laughing. Soon after, Lois joined in.

"Ow!" Lana wheezed, "My stitches!"

"Careful…" Lois chuckled.

"Hold on," said Lana, "I got one. It's called… the Shelby!"

Another period of silence, before the sound of Lois' hooting laughter boomed through the corridors.

"Perfect!" she squealed.

"It's not that hard," Lana maintained, "He's only got like… five of them."

"That's how many I counted," said Lois, "The five expressions of Clark Kent."

_What?_

Why were they talking about me? I ducked into the room next to Lana's. The occupant was either sleeping, or in a coma. Either way, he didn't bother me as I carried on eavesdropping on the conversation next door.

"So, what was it like?" asked Lana, "The first time the two of you… you know…?"

I almost choked. In fact, I think I did choke.

"You wanna compare notes?" asked Lois.

Breathing was become a distant priority.

"I bet I can guess," said Lana.

"Go ahead," said Lois.

"Well, it was probably amazing," said Lana.

"Right, of course," Lois agreed.

"But…"

"But…"

I could see my life flashing before my eyes.

They were really talking about this?

And they said guys were animals.

I've never had a conversation like this with anyone.

Not Oliver, not Ac, not even Pete!

Bart, once or twice, but that was mostly him rambling on and the rest of us ignoring him.

"It was awkward," said Lana.

"Beyond awkward," said Lois.

"Kinda hesitant…"

"And fumbling!'

"That's the word – fumbling!"

I moaned. I literally moaned. If someone liquidised kryptonite and squirted it in my eye, it wouldn't have hurt as much.

"You do realise that that's how you know, right?" said Lana.

"Know what?" asked Lois.

"That you're in love."

"I'm not following," Lois admitted.

"Because until you're in love…" said Lana, "You never know how fine the fumbling can be."

"True."

I could hear Lois' smirk from on the other side of the wall.

"There's this move he tried the other night," said Lois, "It seemed like he was testing it out. So I just wanted to know if he ever made you…?"

That was it!

I couldn't take anymore!

It said volumes about my self control that I didn't burst through the wall.

"Hey, it's me!" I yelled as I crashed through the door.

The girls just looked at me, completely unperturbed. Like they weren't just discussing my… shortcomings… in the bedroom.

"Hey, Clark," Lana smiled at me.

"'Sup, Smallville?" said Lois.

"Oh, nothing…" I tried to sound casual, "Just… brought some flowers. You know, flowers are nice. Thought you'd like 'em."

"Thanks."

I put the flowers down. They were still looking at me. I was sure my face was as red as the centre of the sun.

"So…" I said, "The doctor says you'll be out of here today."

"Yeah, finally," said Lana, "Can't wait to get home."

"Seen enough of this place to last a lifetime, huh?" said Lois.

"Two lifetimes," said Lana.

I'd already run out of things to say, so I started backing towards the door.

"Right, so… I'll just let you two get back to talking about… what you were talking about…" I said, "I'll be at the Talon, but if you need me to pick you up…?"

"That's okay," said Lana, "Lois is going to drive me."

"Of course she is," I grimaced, "Coz you two are inseparable these days."

"Are you okay, Clark?" asked Lois.

"Me? I'm good," I said, "Better than good, I'm great. Fantastic. Wonderful… Bye!"

I made my escape, but too late. I knew for certain that I would never, ever be able to forget that conversation.

.

.

.


	15. Old Friends

…**old friends…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

The grand re-opening of the Talon was as much of a gala as Smallville could muster. The high school crowd was there, as well as the older set. Everyone mingling, chatting, laughing… having a good time.

The new look went down well. Of course, I had to be on the lookout for a few couples who thought that the plush new couches were somehow a suitable stand-in for their usual jaunts up to lookout point.

The double feature of _The Lost Boys_ and _Goonies_ rolling in the movie theatre was a real hit as well.

Lana and I hovered in a corner, trying to be inconspicuous as we revelled in it. Lois was beaming as she hurried over to us.

"So…? A real success, don't you think?"

"Absolutely!" said Lana, "Lois, thank you so much! I can't believe you got all this done while I was in the hospital."

"I just added the finishing touches," said Lois, "You did all the real work. And… I had some help."

Lois deigned to throw a glance my way.

"Help?" I was offended, "I just carried everything, installed everything, and, well… basically _did_ everything."

"And I supervised," said Lois.

I just shook my head and let it go. I know when I can't win a fight.

My mom had flown in from Washington. Chloe and Oliver drove down from Metropolis. It seemed like the whole town – everyone we cared about – was in that one place that night and, for the first time in a really long time… Smallville felt like Smallville again.

Like the years in-between, the terror of the second meteor shower and the line-up of psychotic killers we'd come across just seemed to melt away. We were sixteen again – with our futures bright and untarnished before us.

It felt… right.

Especially around closing time. We'd commandeered a section to ourselves as the last stragglers drifted out. Lois disappeared for a couple of minutes, claiming that she was fetching 'one last surprise'.

It really was a surprise when she walked back in, with a familiar face in tow.

"Pete!"

I was off the couch in a heartbeat, embracing my oldest friend.

"How you doin', Stretch?" Pete grinned.

"Wha…? What are you doing here?" asked Chloe, next in line for a hug.

"Your cousin called me. Told me there might be a trip down memory lane tonight, and I wouldn't wanna miss it."

"You did this?" I pulled Lois close, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"I figured it wouldn't be a party if the gang wasn't all together," said Lois.

Pete had to be careful as he hugged Lana – her stitches still pulled. Chloe, Pete, Lana and I settled back down, but Lois, Oliver and my mom remained standing.

"Well, this is where we love you and leave you," said Lois.

"What?" I was confused.

"You're not staying?" said Chloe.

"No, you guys need to catch up," said Lois, "Ollie, can you give Mrs K and I a ride back to the farm?"

"Sure," said Oliver.

"Great," said Lois, "You can get yourself settled on the couch when we get there."

"The, uh… what?" said Oliver.

"Well, you can't sleep in the bed with me," said Lois.

The very thought got my hackles up, "Not unless he wants me to chuck him back to Metropolis."

"Besides," said Lois, "It might be an uncomfortable night, but you get Mrs K's pancakes as a reward in the morning."

"I have no say in this whatsoever, do I?" Oliver looked resigned.

The three of them trooped out. I escorted the last customers to their car, and flipped the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed'.

Chloe had taken over coffee-making duty, despite our protests. Our reluctance to let her near the machine was justified when we sampled the first cup – that possessed enough caffeine to fell a horse.

"You know what?" said Pete, a little while later, "This is…"

"Don't say _weird!_" Chloe cut in, "Whatever you do, just… please… don't say _weird!_"

"You're the one who started The Wall," Pete pointed out.

"He's got you there, Chlo," Lana agreed.

"Pete's right, though," I said, "I never thought we'd end up back here. I remember the first time you re-opened this place…"

"A lifetime ago…" said Lana, "I had all those problems with the contractor…"

"You mean the one who tried to kill Lex?" said Chloe, "I forget why he was trying to kill him."

"Because he was Lex?" Pete volunteered.

"Club Zero," I said.

"That's right," said Lana, "And that was just the start of the near-death scenarios."

"Actually…" I had to disagree, "I think it started with your old boyfriend stringing me up in a field."

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" said Lana.

"Yeah, well… your taste in men was always lousy," said Chloe.

"Gee, thanks!" I shot her a dirty look.

Chloe just grinned.

"Please," Pete laughed, "You fell just as hard for Clark."

"As hard as you fell for Chloe?" I asked.

The conversation died abruptly as we all stared at each other. Then we burst out laughing. Chloe was the first to get her breath back.

"Why does it feel like our lives should fit between opening and closing credits?" she asked.

"It did get a bit dramatic," said Lana.

"Yeah, but we survived," I said, "More than that, we… we thrived. Pete… on your way to Washington. My mom told me. Congrats."

"Thanks, bro."

"Chloe… expert cyber-sleuth and professional sidekick extraordinaire!"

"Why are you talking like me?" she asked.

"And Lana…"

Lana fixed me with a steady, almost apprehensive look, just waiting.

"We finally got you back," I said, "You're home."

"And I couldn't be happier," she grinned.

I raised my mug, "A toast!"

Pete and Lana raised theirs, but Chloe interjected.

"Wait! We're forgetting something," she said, "Our very own man of mystery, Clark Kent!"

"Not so much a mystery anymore," said Pete, "We do all know about him."

"And we're all proud of you, Clark," said Lana, "Stepping up and showing the world the hero we saw everyday."

"Yeah," said Pete, "Lois mentioned something about a costume…"

"Oh, God…" I groaned.

"You have to show me!"

"Okay, fine!" I said, "But if you say one word about how blue it is…"

.

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	16. Where We Belong

…**epilogue – where we belong…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

_I find myself thinking about that night all the time. _

_How selfless you were, leaving us to build one more lasting memory – just the four of us. The ones who were there at the beginning. _

_I know I'm a writer, and I'm supposed to be good at this, but… I can't really explain just how much it meant to me. That whole period. Getting Lana back – knowing she was safe. Having Chloe and Pete by my side again. I felt… strong. Strong enough to take on the world. _

_Of course, everyone on the planet knows what happened after that. _

_Lex came back, and you just had to sneak onto the plane that was carrying him, and the LuthorCorp board, to a summit in Coast City. The plane experienced mechanical problems shortly after take-off and plummeted from the sky. _

_Where a man in electric blue, with a cape the colour of blood, caught it in mid-air. _

_The next day you got your biggest headline: _**'He Flies!' **_and Superman was born._

_The rest… is history. _

_I suppose you're wondering why I chose to tell _this_ story – to carry it to that enchanted world of black and white on paper that we both cherish. _

_It's because – looking back on it now – it's when I realised that I could make it through anything. That it wasn't my powers that made me invincible. It wasn't the strength, the speed, or the bulletproof skin… it's the people I love that make me strong. _

_And I love you more than I love anyone. _

_I meant what I said when you came back from Africa. _

_You're the reason for all of this. _

_Without Lois Lane… there wouldn't be a Superman._

_._

_._

_._

Lois' tears stained the page and she closed the book, clutching it to her chest. One glance around the room was almost enough to send her spiralling.

The photo of the two of them at their wedding displayed on the table.

The framed _'He Flies' _article on the wall.

This was their home, and it had been so, so empty without him these past three months.

What made it worse was that she wasn't even allowed to grieve. She couldn't let anyone – especially Lex – connect the dots between Clark Kent and Superman. So when the world's greatest hero disappeared, Clark Kent just took an extended trip to Europe. In public, Lois had to pretend that she spoke to her husband all the time, and that he was fine, and would be home soon.

When the truth was…

Setting the journal down, Lois stood. She crossed to the window. It opened onto a small balcony and every night she found herself standing in this very spot, staring up into the dark, empty sky and hoping, praying, for a glimpse of him.

But tonight, like every other night, there was nothing.

She jumped, emitting a small, frightened gasp when her phone rang. Gritting her teeth and willing herself to get it together, Lois crossed the living room and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Lois," it was Lana, "Just… checking in. How are you?"

"Surviving," said Lois.

"You don't sound okay."

"I'll be fine, Lana," Lois assured her, "Really, I'm… just having a bad night."

"You know, my offer still stands," said Lana, "Come to Smallville. Pete and I would love to have you."

"Thanks, but… I think if I didn't have my work I really would lose it."

"Then I'm coming to Metropolis," Lana sounded determined, "I know you keep saying no, but you shouldn't be alone right now."

"You don't have to do that…"

"I want to," said Lana, "We all miss him. I just… I can't even imagine how hard it is for you."

"Okay…" said Lois, softly.

"Okay?" Lana sounded surprised, "You're accepting an offer of help?"

"Yes. So?"

"So, now I know Clark's coming back soon," said Lana, "Because the miracles are already starting."

Despite herself, Lois managed a laugh.

"I'll be there first thing in the morning," said Lana, "Stock up on the ice cream."

"Will do," said Lois, "And Lana…?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Hang in there, Lois," she said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Lois put down the phone. Much to her surprise, she actually felt a bit better.

If anyone had told her a few years ago that she and Lana – the Army Brat and the Pink Princess – would actually be close friends, Lois would never have believed it. But that was the power of her husband. He had a way of drawing people together.

She decided to turn in. She switched off the lamp, and let her fingers trail across the cover of the journal for a second.

Then she let it go and crossed to the bedroom. Before she got there, she heard a faint tapping at the window.

At first, she was convinced she was hearing things, but then it came again… unmistakable.

Lois shot across the room.

Ripping the window open, she didn't even think as she hurled herself out into the air… where he caught her.

He always caught her.

She threw her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his chest.

"Lois…" he breathed, encircling her in his arms.

The suit was ripped, and dirty, stained with blood. His hair was long and unkempt. But Lois didn't even notice.

All she knew was his eyes.

Those baby blues that carried all the love and devotion he felt everytime he looked at her.

He caught her lips in a kiss that sucked the breath from her.

Lois surrendered to it. To the feel, the taste, the smell of him…

"Clark…"

"I'm sorry," his voice was hoarse with suppressed emotion, "I was… I was taken. A Tribunal, they… they stripped my powers, put me on trial… I had to cross galaxies to get back."

God! He looked so tired. So worn. Lois was afraid to let any of her own pain and fear show. She didn't want him worrying about her when it was so obvious that he'd just been through a tremendous ordeal himself.

"I'm back," he said, "And I'm not going anywhere ever again. I swear it. Lois… I missed you so much!"

She couldn't hold it in anymore.

Months of burying all that anxiety, that terror, it just burst up from inside her and she went limp in his arms as they hovered thirty feet above the ground.

There, suspended on a dream of flying, Lois wept.

"I'm sorry…" he said, again, "I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay."

He was crying too. She tried to find a smile and kiss away the tears.

"I'm okay," she said, "It's just… Oh, Clark… sometimes I miss Clark so much…"

.

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The End.

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A/N: So, that's it. The story of Clark disappearing, getting kidnapped by an alien Tribunal, is told in the comic The Trial of Superman. I don't own it. I read it many years ago, but I can still remember that last page - Lois and Clark in mid-air, and her words: "Clark... sometimes I miss Clark so much..."

That's why it's in here - because even after all this time, it's still with me. Find it and read it if you can.

I know this story wasn't everyone's cup of tea. I knew that going in. I don't think it was my strongest fic - in fact, I know it's not - but I really, really needed it. Especially the Lana aspect. Getting them to the end of this, I think made the trip worthwhile.

I'll be posting a new story this week. I already know what it's about, and trust me, it's not nearly as heavy as this. Not even close.

It's gonna have to be funny... because it has the Justice League in it...

Thanks for sticking with me - Love you all lots and lots...


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